


flower through disarray

by starboykeith



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Background Hance, Communication, First Meetings, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Galaxy Garrison, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Pining, Pre-Kerberos Mission, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Sparring, Tutoring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-10-23 15:09:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 21,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10721805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starboykeith/pseuds/starboykeith
Summary: On the verge of facing disciplinary action, Keith is assigned Shiro as a mentor. Though first determined to get rid of him as fast as possible, Keith finds there's more to the golden boy than he'd assumed.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can never resist the tutoring trope. it's in my veins
> 
> title is from fake it by bastille
> 
> NOTE AS OF 10/8/17: since the canon ages were released a couple days ago, i thought i'd make a quick note and say that in this fic, keith and lance are 18, and hunk and shiro are 19.
> 
> 7/12/17: since i've gotten multiple queries about this: shiro having a prosthetic was a personal choice, because it didn't feel right to write him without it, because his disability is part of his character. it has no implications for the story.

"Keith," Commander Iverson says, and Keith reluctantly drags his eyes from the table and meets his gaze. "Your conduct of late has not been acceptable."  
  
Keith knows this, and rolls his eyes at the thought of another disciplinary meeting. He stares glumly at the three people seated opposite him: the commander, his tutor, and Takashi Shirogane, golden boy of the Galaxy Garrison, who smiles at him. Keith looks away. He must really be in the doghouse, on the edge of some kind of disciplinary action even, if they've assigned him _Shirogane_.   
  
"Your attendance is appalling," continues Iverson, and Keith can already feel that this is going to be a long list, "when you do turn up to class, you're difficult and insubordinate; you don't work well - or rather, at all - with others, and you're too impulsive to work as part of a team. Frankly, this is not behaviour befitting a cadet. Especially at your age."  
  
"Don't," Keith's tutor says as soon as Keith opens his mouth. "I've tried so hard to get through to you, Keith - "  
  
A lie.   
  
" - and all you do is push people away when they're trying to help you."  
  
Not quite a lie.   
  
"We're assigning you a mentor," Iverson says. His disapproving expression, directed at Keith, shifts to one of approval as he looks at Shirogane. "This is Takashi Shirogane."  
  
_Takashi Shirogane_. As if Keith needs to be told his name; it's on the lips of every diligent teacher, every aspiring officer, every swooning teenager. He's the gold standard, the best, the brightest: everyone knows Shirogane's name because _everyone_ gets told to aspire to his level.   
  
When Keith tunes back in, both officers are falling over themselves to sing Shirogane's praises, gushing over his _credentials_ and his _work ethic_ and his _experience_. Shirogane looks sheepish, the fingers of his prosthetic tapping nervously on the table and an embarrassed expression on his face as he meets Keith's eyes.   
  
_It must be so hard to get nothing but praise_ , Keith thinks viciously. _Must be so hard to be_ perfect.  
  
"A good fit for your case, Keith," his tutor says, suddenly seeming to remember Keith's existence.   
  
"My case," Keith mutters.   
  
"Remember this is for _you_ , Keith," Iverson interjects, and Keith feels like a child being scolded. "Shiro will help you with your classes, with your practicals, any other issues you might have."  
  
_Issues_.   
  
"So he's my babysitter."  
  
He immediately receives scowls from his superiors, and Shiro leans forward and speaks for the first time since they entered the room. "Your mentor," he says, voice kind.   
  
"Sorry," Keith says, correcting his mistake with an apologetic smile, "my nanny."

 

* * *

 

The officers leave them alone soon after that. Keith imagines they're glad that he's finally someone else's burden.   
  
Keith gets up immediately and makes to walk to the door, but Shiro steps in front of him.   
  
"Shiro," he says, holding out a hand, and Keith looks down at the metal for a moment before taking it, if only because Shiro is going to be ratting on him and their 'progress' every week, and Keith doesn't want him to hold a grudge because Keith wouldn't shake his hand, or something. Shiro seems like that kind of guy.   
  
"Keith." He drops Shiro's hand as soon as possible.   
  
"Sorry about this," Shiro says, gesturing to the room. "I'm really not all that. I just volunteered."  
  
He _volunteered_ , Keith thinks, exasperated, because Shiro is so obviously false, just a teacher's pet using Keith for work experience and kudos with his superior officers.   
  
"Right," Keith says shortly.   
  
Shiro looks at him for a moment. Keith straightens his posture and doesn't meet Shiro's eyes.   
  
"Can I have your ID?" Shiro eventually asks, slipping his phone from his pocket. "We should meet tomorrow, talk."  
  
Keith recites his ID number by heart, and waves Shiro away when Shiro offers to give Keith his. "Just message me," Keith says, already stepping around Shiro, eager to leave.   
  
"Tomorrow, then," Shiro says as Keith leaves the room. Keith rolls his eyes. 

 

* * *

 

The cafe seemed the obvious place to meet, but now that they're here Keith feels desperately out of place. Scores of people wave and smile at Shiro - the cafe is the social hub, after all, though Keith wouldn't know anything about that - and Keith hunches over and tries to make himself seem smaller. Invisible would be preferable, Keith thinks, glaring at another student giving him and Shiro a curious look. He supposes they're an incongruous pairing - the teacher's pet and the problem child - but there's no need to be _rude_.   
  
Keith bites the inside of his cheek, already hating the situation. Shiro's drinking his coffee black and Keith hates him for that as well.   
  
"No one really likes black coffee," Keith comments, just to be contrary, but Shiro smiles at him.   
  
"True," Shiro says, dissipating Keith's smug expression. "I was up late, though, and this is all that works."  
  
"Girlfriend?" Keith sneers, but Shiro doesn't rise to it, just raises an eyebrow at him.   
  
"Helping a friend," he says shortly, and pauses. "Keith, are you not even willing to give this a go?"  
  
Keith's silent for a second, Shiro having cut to the crux of the matter, and then he's angry all over again, thinking back to instructors belittling him like a child just because he doesn't want to learn it _their_ way. "I don't need a babysitter," Keith snaps.   
  
"Well," Shiro says, leaning back and folding his arms, "I'm here to help you. You could at least try, instead of writing me off."  
  
"This isn't about you," Keith mutters. They could have stuck Keith with any mentor and Keith would have hated it; it's just that it stings twice as much that the golden boy is the only one deemed capable of _fixing_ Keith.   
  
"You're right," Shiro says, and his tone is so patient it startles Keith into looking right at him. "This is about you. You're capable of so much more, Keith. No one's making you do this on your own."  
  
"I don't work well with others," Keith says stiffly.   
  
"I'm here to help you," Shiro repeats. "At least give it a chance, yeah?"  
  
Keith takes a sip of his drink to avoid replying, knowing he can't just get shot of Shiro by being belligerent, because Shiro seems determined to get through to Keith, and the assignment of Shiro to his case definitely means Keith is on his last few chances at the Garrison. He needs Shiro to approve his freedom, and that means playing along.   
  
"Fine," Keith says shortly. 

 

* * *

 

Shiro doesn't make Keith do any work that session: they sit in a silence Shiro pretends isn't uncomfortable, and just as Keith is ready to make his excuses and escape, Shiro speaks up.   
  
"What do you want to work on next time?"  
  
Keith resists the urge to groan loudly. He thinks of the backlog of uncompleted assignments on his task list, glowing red with attached angry notes from his professors, and tries to remember what Shiro's specialty is. It's difficult, because Shiro is lauded as good at everything.   
  
"I'll bring something," he says vaguely. Shiro's eyebrows furrow together.   
  
"You can't think of anything right now?" he presses, and Keith is proud of himself for not rolling his eyes. He should have known Shirogane would be ridiculously specific about every little thing.   
  
"Maybe engineering," he lies. There's definitely something for engineering he hasn't completed - it's not his strongest subject - so it isn't really an untruth.   
  
"Oh, yeah," Shiro says, sounding sympathetic. "I forgot your year doesn't have the option to specialise yet."  
  
Keith makes a noise of agreement. "I'm going to be a pilot," he says, and then isn't really sure why he bothered, because it's not like Shiro cares.   
  
"I know," Shiro says, smiling at him, and Keith doesn't appreciate the reminder that Shiro probably has access to every file the Garrison has on him. "At least we only have to have basic qualifications in non-specialty subjects, right?"  
  
"Right," Keith says, wondering if his eyes have glazed over in boredom. "I should, uh - I've got stuff to do."   
  
Not his smoothest exit, but there's no way Shiro wouldn't suspect him of creating flimsy excuses anyway. Shiro probably _expects_ Keith to run from every session, because he's been dumped with the problem student and fed horror stories by _Iverson_ , of all people.   
  
"Alright," Shiro says amicably. "I'll message you about tomorrow later on."  
  
"Cool," Keith says, standing up and tucking his phone into his pocket. "See you." The words feel stilted coming out of his mouth, and Shiro doesn't dismiss him, just nods, so Keith nods back just as awkwardly and walks away as quickly as he can without being suspicious.   
  
Someone else joins Shiro at the table before Keith's even left the room, and Keith rolls his eyes. Clearly it'll be good for both of them when this mentoring mess is over. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave a comment if you enjoyed! you can find me on twitter at twitter.com/starboysheith and tumblr at starboykeith.tumblr.com !


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to everyone who read, gave kudos, bookmarked, and subscribed! i appreciate it so much

"What are you like in the classroom?" Shiro asks, tapping a stylus against his tablet. There's a text on the screen, but Keith can't make out the contents from upside down.  
  
"A joy," Keith replies flatly.  
  
Shiro actually laughs. "Yeah?"  
  
"Would I lie to you?"  
  
"Of course you wouldn't," Shiro mutters, raising an eyebrow. "So you wouldn't happen to be...difficult to reason with? Irritable? Independent to the point of being unsociable?"  
  
Shiro presents the list casually, like it's off the top of his head; his tone tells Keith he really didn't _mean_ to directly quote from Keith's report from last term - Keith would bet his life that's what Shiro is reading on his tablet, because he is utterly transparent. No doubt Shiro intended to actually discuss it with Keith in a roundabout, optimistic way, but Keith feels affronted; Shiro didn't even make an effort to cover up his poking around in Keith's records. "Who told you that?"  
  
"Just a guess," Shiro replies, face unreadable.  
  
Keith really hopes Shiro is being sarcastic, because if not, that was pitiful. "Do you have a  _list_  of my problems?"  
  
"It is available in your file," Shiro concedes, and of _course_ he has access to Keith's file.  
  
"Well," Keith says sweetly, "Commander Pearson's report last term was accurate. You got the quote exactly right." Shiro sighs. "Well done," Keith adds, and Shiro closes his eyes for a moment. Keith wonders wildly if he could get Shiro to quit after just one day.  
  
"Keith," Shiro says, very patiently. "I would like to help you."  
  
Keith rests his chin on his hands.  
  
"You're making this difficult," Shiro adds.  
  
"You don't have to be here," Keith says flippantly.  
  
"I want to help you." Broken record. Shiro must really want to impress Iverson.  
  
Keith searches Shiro's face for a second, but all he finds is determination. "I brought an engineering assignment," he says. An olive branch, because he's sick of talking in circles. "It's theory, not practical."  
  
"Good place to start," Shiro says hopefully.  
  
Once Keith accepts that Shiro's aware of everything in his file and must have heard all the talk about him already - discipline issues, disrespectful, unsociable, bad-tempered - it's actually easier to open up to him and admit weakness or difficulty, because Shiro's opinion of Keith can't get any lower than what he's been fed by superior officers and the rumour mill.  
  
They make progress, both with the task - though tedious - and each other. Shiro quickly finds Keith is more open to taking on improvements when he doesn't consider himself insulted by Shiro's comments. Shiro doesn't always remember to consider Keith's feelings while 'helping' him, however, and Keith finds himself snapping at Shiro more often than not.  
  
By the end of the session - deciding by mutual agreement that engineering was neither of their favourite subjects and getting on each other's frayed nerves was doing more harm than good - Keith actually feels content. Shiro's still untouchable - intelligent, capable, treats Keith with kid gloves despite being only one year above - but they had a dynamic, for a time, and though Keith didn't particularly enjoy it, he admits they got stuff done.  
  
"I don't think I'm going to make much progress if I keep referring to your file," Shiro says as they're packing up. "What's on paper is nothing compared to you in person. I'm not going to look at it again."  
  
"Alright," Keith says, keeping his tone casual, but he's relieved. At least from now he can control how Shiro sees him, and hopefully convince Shiro to let him go sooner.

 

* * *

 

"So, you never show up to lessons," Shiro starts, and stares Keith into submission before he can open his mouth to argue, "you don't do your homework, and you pick and choose the _graded_ assignments you complete."  
  
It's a brutal way to start their session, for the second day in a row, but Keith figures - hopes - that Shiro is losing patience with him and wants to get this over with too.  
  
He isn't really surprised that Shiro's reverted to insulting him and pointing out his flaws; patience can only last so long. Keith _had_ thought they'd made progress yesterday, but it makes sense that Shiro is set in his ways. Shiro's probably too used to being on top, unable to do no wrong, heaped with praise for every minor achievement. Who would turn that down?  
  
Perhaps, Keith considers, it's because only yesterday he failed to attend class and submit an assignment, and perhaps Shiro was told to bring it up today.  
  
"Does Iverson give you talking points for each meeting?" Keith asks, unfazed, but Shiro isn't done.  
  
"Yet you have twice as much time logged in the practical facilities each week than other cadets," he continues, ignoring Keith. "Hours in the simulators. Hours sparring with gladiators."  
  
Keith flushes and declines to comment.  
  
When he looks up, Shiro's eyes are hard, questioning, and it's so different to his usual open gaze that Keith feels chastened.  
  
" _I_ know that," Keith says slowly, when it becomes apparent Shiro isn't going to give. "Do you know anything about me that isn't in a file?" He feels he has the right to be offended by this; that Shiro thinks the way to fix Keith is by interrogating him and then asking what Keith is going to do about it, as if it'll inspire Keith somehow. Keith doesn't _want_ to do anything: he's passing all his exams with flying colours, and that's what matters, right?  
  
Shiro's gaze softens a little, but he still looks disapproving. It's the classic expression Keith usually receives from teachers who feel sorry for him but frustrated at his behaviour. "I know you want to be a pilot."  
  
Keith sets his jaw, refusing to acknowledge his surprise that Shiro remembered his throwaway comment.  
  
"I know the education system can be frustrating, but it's something we all have to complete," Shiro says. His tone implies that it's intended to be encouraging. "Your teachers don't give you assignments for _fun_ \- "  
  
"That's obvious."  
  
" - but because they're important. It all serves a purpose."  
  
"I am eighteen years old," Keith says tightly. "I do not want to sit in a stuffy classroom and cut up revision cards, or make a project, or work in a _pair_ ," he sneers. "If it's utterly pointless, why should I do it? It's a waste of my time."  
  
"Just because you don't think it's helpful doesn't mean you can just decide not to do things," Shiro says, voice level. "You're not the teacher."  
  
"I have to do as I'm told," Keith mutters sarcastically.  
  
"Yes," Shiro admits, and Keith's head snaps up to glare at him. "It's not always fair, alright? Sometimes things might not seem beneficial, but this is just a stepping stone, after all. If you do as you're told, you can be a pilot. Doesn't that seem worthwhile to you?"  
  
"Fine," Keith concedes, because he can't be bothered to argue. He doesn't let the silence become awkward, meeting Shiro's eyes and saying, "I thought you weren't going to poke around in my file anymore."  
  
Shiro shrugs. "I already looked at it," he says, abashed. "Can't forget what I read."  
  
There's a silence in which Shiro actually looks apologetic for everything he just inflicted upon Keith, and Keith crosses his arms.  
  
"I spend all my time in simulators because I find them more helpful and productive than most of the assignments I'm given," Keith says slowly. Another olive branch. _Keith_ is the one making all the effort here.  
  
"What kind of assignments do you choose not to do?" Shiro asks, and though still interrogative, Keith prefers being asked for the reasoning behind his actions rather than just blind criticism of his decisions.  
  
"I," Keith says, and pauses. Shiro nods encouragingly at him. "I think it's unfair to say I pick and choose at my assignments," he says cautiously. "If you really look, I skip creative ones, and my lates are usually because I prioritise my most important subjects."  
  
"But the ones you do submit are always excellent quality," Shiro says.  
  
Keith raises an eyebrow - he wouldn't go _that_ far - but Shiro's nodding, taking the train of thought. "I understand. And all the time you spend training?"  
  
"It's always relevant," Keith says after a pause. "Simulations and sparring - they're things that are really going to _help_ me improve my skills, no matter what. You can't deny that. It's always going to be more relevant than a research paper; it's practical experience."  
  
"But you can't always fight your way out of a situation," Shiro challenges. "You _need_ knowledge of the theories behind everything, because then how else can you apply them?"  
  
Keith opens his mouth to reply and then scowls, caught-out. "Practical experience is more important, though," he says, frustrated and refusing to bend. "You're always going to need those skills, they're essential."  
  
"Until you're in a situation you've never prepared for," Shiro says easily, and Keith glares.

"Well - "

 

* * *

 

Keith's uncharacteristically nervous when Iverson summons him to his office - he's been there many, _many_ times for various incidents, both of his own making and other people's fights - but never has Keith been dragged up to the principal's office without knowing what he did to deserve it.  
  
Iverson's secretary gives Keith a frosty look when he arrives, gesturing to indicate he can go in. Keith hurries past her; Iverson might not intimidate him, but the assistants in his employ never fail to make Keith feel small.  
  
"Sir," Keith says, pausing in the doorway.  
  
"Kogane," Iverson replies without looking up. "Come in."  
  
_Back to Kogane_ , Keith thinks sourly. Using his first name the other day must have been an attempt to show Shirogane that Iverson actually cared about students other than his star pupil.  
  
Keith enters the spacious office, bitterly noting as always that it's at least twice the size of the average cadet's bedroom, and sits in the chair opposite Iverson that has become very familiar to him during his time at the Garrison.  
  
Iverson finishes writing whatever he's working on, a long five minutes of power play that Keith couldn't care less about at this point. He stares at the brim of Iverson's cap, wondering if it's true that Iverson hides what's left of his hair under there, and wondering what the hell Shirogane said about him to get Keith called up here already.  
  
"How have your sessions with Shiro been?"  
  
Keith almost jumps. "Fine," he says cautiously.  
  
"That's not what I got from my conversation with him," Iverson says, and Keith's heart sinks. "Shiro seemed to think you were being disrespectful." Keith raises his chin. "We're giving you a chance here, Kogane."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"You're very lucky to have this opportunity."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"I don't expect to receive another report like this. If I do, you can guarantee your case will be reviewed again."  
  
Keith swallows. "Yes, sir."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> poor keef
> 
> please leave a comment if you enjoyed!


	3. Chapter 3

Keith avoids Shiro, after that. He played nice for not one but _two_ sessions, and now he's sick of reminders that Shiro is the best, the gold standard, and even Keith's best efforts aren't enough for him. Keith's a little hurt that Shiro wrote him off so soon - two days, for God's sake; Keith hadn't wanted to be there but Shiro hadn't given him a chance, either - and ignores Shiro's texts.  
  
He's not an amateur: he avoids his room and the gym - his only frequent haunts - and returns to places he hasn't visited since he was a new student avoiding the stifling surge of _people_ , loud teenagers cramming every open space, and having quickly learned to avoid teachers who sought him out after-hours, usually for negative reasons.  
  
Keith also maintains hiding spaces because sometimes he really does need to escape from it all, which becomes very difficult when Shiro suddenly starts appearing _everywhere_.  
  
The most frustrating thing is that Keith doesn't know how he does it. Shiro finds him every single time, and doesn't even boast, or reprimand Keith; he just sits down near Keith like they're old friends and starts working on his tablet. He's perfectly content to sit in silence while Keith seethes and glares and opens and closes his mouth trying to find the words to make him go away.  
  
When Keith leaves, Shiro will follow him.  
  
Keith's pleased with his spot today: he's in one of the rooms above the auditorium, located through a snaking series of passages generally considered lovers' lanes, but he'd stumbled across a meeting room, complete with comfy chairs and a space heater.  
  
When the door opens, anger sinks Keith's mood like a stone.  
  
Shiro drops into the seat next to Keith without even looking at him, and Keith makes a frustrated noise.  
  
"Why can't you just leave me alone?"  
  
"Hello to you, too," Shiro says, infuriatingly calm, and Keith wants to hit him.  
  
"I don't need you to - why do you _follow_ me everywhere, why can't you just - " Keith can't find the words; it just makes him angrier to be babbling like a child, and he slams his hand down on the armrest.  
  
Shiro puts his tablet down and looks coolly at Keith. "Calm down," he says, and Keith thinks about doing something childish like baring his teeth. "There's no need to be so angry at me, I'm trying to help."  
  
"Everyone _tries_ to help," Keith spits. "I don't need it."  
  
"Don't you?" Shiro asks. "Are you happy with how things are going? Are you the very best you can be?"  
  
_Almost_ , Keith thinks angrily, but admitting that would prove Shiro's point.  
  
"I'd be doing a lot better if you weren't ratting me out to Iverson," Keith says, bitterness creeping into his tone.  
  
Shiro looks taken aback. "I didn't."  
  
"Yeah? Then why was I called into his office yesterday for being _disrespectful_? Did you think I needed another lecture?"  
  
"I didn't say you were disrespectful," Shiro says, looking genuinely confused. "You weren't."  
  
Keith doesn't think that's quite true, but he isn't about to tell Shiro that.  
  
"I - I said," Shiro's brow furrows, clearly trying to remember if anything he'd said could have been misconstrued. "All I said was that you were a little resistant, but we were going to work on it."  
  
"Ah," Keith says knowingly. "What Iverson got from that is I hurt your feelings, and that was enough to threaten me with a - a review." Keith curses himself as his voice breaks and Shiro's gaze softens; as much as he pretends otherwise, Keith _doesn't_ want to be kicked out, is terrified of the prospect, and he doesn't want Shiro to know that because Shiro holds Keith's future in his hands.  
  
"It won't go that far," Shiro says firmly.  
  
"What can _you_ do about it?" Shiro has 'tried,' sure, but Keith is capable of doing his own work; he doesn't need Shiro for that. Besides, if these first days are any indication, Shiro's made it _worse_.  
  
Shiro hums thoughtfully and ignores Keith's question. "I think you need an outlet."  
  
Keith doesn't care what Shiro thinks, but he bites anyway. "For what?"  
  
"Your anger."  
  
Forcing himself to exhale, Keith finally looks at Shiro. He wants to feel offended, but he supposes Shiro is right that Keith has a lot of pent-up anger at any given time.  
  
Lately, it's been directed at Shiro.  
  
"Is snapping at people and sulking working out for you?" Shiro presses.  
  
"It's worked all this time," Keith says challengingly, tipping up his chin.  
  
Shiro looks thoughtful. "Have you ever done yoga?" he asks suddenly, and it startles a laugh out of Keith until he realises Shiro isn't kidding.  
  
"No," Keith says, voice wavering with uncertainty. Shiro's smiling at him. " _No_ ," Keith repeats firmly, eyes narrowing.  
  
"Maybe we could try something else," Shiro says, considering, and then he stands up. "Come with me."  
  
"One mention of yoga and I'm leaving," Keith mutters under his breath, and Shiro laughs. Keith doesn't have to go anywhere with him, but he follows Shiro because he has nothing better to do, and a tiny, traitorous part of him wonders if Shiro owns yoga pants.  
  
That's how they end up in the gym, circling each other slowly as Shiro talks about 'ground rules' and Keith ignores him.  
  
He's admittedly a little nervous about sparring with Shiro - Shiro's scores are, of course, always top of the charts and generally a source of inspiration.  
  
Not to Keith.  
  
Keith figures Shiro probably follows techniques to the letter, which gives Keith, with his impulsive, unpredictable style, a huge advantage.  
  
"Ready?" Shiro says finally, and Keith rolls his eyes and launches himself at Shiro.  
  
"Fuck," Keith says, staring at the ceiling after Shiro immediately puts him on his back. A hand appears in his line of sight, and Keith grabs it and lets Shiro pull him up. There's amusement in his smile, and Keith scowls at him, dropping his hand.  
  
"You caught me off guard."  
  
"Sure I did," Shiro says, grinning and flexing his fingers.  
  
Keith grits his teeth and runs at Shiro again. Shiro makes as though to grab the arm Keith raises to attack but Keith ducks his grasp and spins quickly -  
  
\- only to fall flat on his back as Shiro spins too and sweeps Keith's legs out from under him.  
  
Keith makes a frustrated noise, already feeling rage simmering under his skin. Shiro helps him up, expression neutral, and it makes Keith angrier than it would have if Shiro was smug about it.  
  
They go again, and again, and again, Keith becoming more impulsive with every round, but Shiro puts him on his back every single time without fail, and it's with a growl that Keith ignores Shiro's hand and leaps to his feet.  
  
"This is pointless!" he snarls. "You're too - I can't win!" Keith almost paid Shiro a compliment, but it's nothing to do with him - their fighting styles are clearly incompatible and that's why Keith keeps failing. Any other reason is incomprehensible: Keith _excels_ at hand-to-hand combat, and he knows it.  
  
"You rely too much on aggression," Shiro tells him mildly. "You have the advantage of speed, but you tend to miscalculate; you need to use finesse, not violence."  
  
Keith takes a deep breath to shout at him, but exhales just as quickly, because Shiro's right. He hates to admit it, but Shiro _is_ right. It's been so long since Keith sparred with a human - it's easy to fool a robot by being spontaneous, but humans don't fight based on pattern, and Keith isn't used to someone who can figure him out.  
  
"Okay," Keith says stiffly, acknowledging the criticism. "I will keep it in mind."  
  
"Good," Shiro says, pleased. The metal of his prosthetic fingers hums as he flexes them. "You wanna go again?"  
  
"No." Keith rubs a hand over his hair, probably fluffing it into an even bigger mess, but he doesn't care, beginning to stride toward the showers. "We are definitely done for today."  
  
"Same time tomorrow?" Shiro calls.  
  
"If we have to," Keith mutters, but to Shiro he says, "Sure, I guess."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sparring in a sheith fic? it's more likely than you'd think
> 
> please leave a comment if you enjoyed!


	4. Chapter 4

They start sparring four times a week, and the pointless activity irritates Keith at first - he hasn't beaten Shiro _once_.  
  
He rolls his eyes easily enough, but soon the frustration gets to him, fed up of Shiro putting him on his back _every single time_ , no matter how dirty or unpredictable or violent Keith fights.  
  
It's an exercise in futility, he realises. Shiro dismisses him with a clap on the back as always, reminding Keith to use his advantages, and Keith starts scheming.  
  
Next time, instead of fighting dirty, Keith draws on his basic training, recalling the hand-to-hand combat techniques he usually chooses to ignore, considering weight and balance and how much of an advantage Shiro's strength _really_  gives him against Keith's lighter build.  
  
It still ends with Shiro's knee in his back, having inevitably subdued Keith no matter how hard Keith tries, but there's something different in Shiro's smile when he helps Keith up, both of them stretching sore muscles ready to go again.  
  
"That was really good, Keith," Shiro says, enthusiastic. He's barely broken a sweat, but Keith feels a flush high in his cheeks he isn't sure is just from the exercise. "I can tell you're taking my advice on board."  
  
"Yeah, finally," Keith says, and his smile freezes when Shiro laughs, realising he made a _j_ _oke_ , and since when was Shirogane someone Keith could laugh with?  
  
Shiro, clearly not above playing dirty himself, takes advantage of Keith's momentary distraction by swinging for him again, and Keith is shocked when he catches Shiro's prosthetic hand, the metal stinging his palm, and manages to throw Shiro's weight off.  
  
"Good job," Shiro exclaims, and Keith is emboldened, quickening his movements and ducking Shiro's grasp, seeking the weaknesses he hadn't been able to manipulate before.  
  
It's a more equal session, for once: Keith never quite triumphs, but they spar for longer and longer, Keith ducking and weaving and realising that perhaps staying on defence isn't a bad thing, grinning as Shiro lunges for him and _misses_.  
  
Again, it ends with Shiro pinning Keith against the mat, but Keith doesn't really expect any other result at this point.  
  
"You're really improving," Shiro says, finally breathless and beaming at Keith. "You're starting to look for weaknesses, use your own natural advantages - today was _great_ , Keith."  
  
Keith flushes in the face of such blatant praise, opening and closing his mouth like a fish as he searches for an answer, but Shiro doesn't need one, merely squeezing Keith's shoulder and heading off to the changing rooms.

 

* * *

 

They've developed a - Keith is hesitant to say _friendship_ , but it is, of sorts. Keith's learned a lot about Shiro, given him a chance and gotten to know him better, and he likes the person he's found.  
  
Shiro doesn't silence Keith's sarcasm with a disapproving look anymore; he counters with witty comments that always catch Keith off guard, the same as when Shiro makes jokes, or teases Keith, or joins in with Keith's complaints about a particular teacher. It always takes him a second to register Shiro's comments and reply, because Shiro's sense of humour is so contradictory to the one Keith had imagined for him - he'd almost been taken aback Shiro had one at all.  
  
Keith is surprised, mostly. He'd made so many assumptions about Shiro - that he was nothing more than a teacher's pet, dull and boring and obsessed with forcing Keith to work around the clock until his grades suited Shiro's impossible standards - but none of them are true.  
  
Sometimes, Keith catches himself looking forward to their sessions, because spending time with Shiro is _fun_ , but he buries those thoughts immediately.  
  
Shiro hasn't brought up Keith's classwork again, not for the two weeks since they started sparring, and Keith thinks about it for a long time after he realises he trusts Shiro, would be willing to share his work with him, to ask for help. Keith's actually been making progress lately, working in secret and ticking tasks off his list, but he's largely thinking about the test papers he's been getting back that he isn't flying through as expected.  
  
And Shiro _was_  assigned to him to help, after all.  
  
The next time Keith sees Shiro, it's Shiro's turn to pack up after them - they only get out a few mats, but Keith hadn't objected when Shiro said they'd start taking turns - and Keith hangs back, nervously tapping his foot.  
  
"Hey, Shiro," he starts, and then pauses. It isn't that he thinks Shiro will make fun of him, or hold a grudge, but just the thought of asking for help makes Keith's insides coil.  
  
"Yeah?" Shiro straightens, running a hand through his hair, and Keith swallows, eyes fixed on the movement. Shiro turns towards him and Keith quickly redirects his gaze.  
  
"I got some papers back from the tests the other week," he says haltingly. "I was wondering if, uh. If you'd have a look. I don't know how to improve, so..." He trails off, feeling stupid.  
  
"Of course," Shiro says, easy as breathing. Keith feels foolish for even entertaining the thought that Shiro would laugh at him, or judge him in some way.  
  
_He volunteered_ , Keith remembers, and this time the thought fills him with gratitude rather than irritation.  
  
"Thanks," Keith says, relieved. "I'll text you later."

 

* * *

 

Keith feels a little humiliated as he passes Shiro the test paper. He watches Shiro glance over the 60% mark with a raised eyebrow, but he doesn't comment, just opens the paper and takes in each page.  
  
When Shiro finally puts the test down, Keith waits expectantly.  
  
"Most of your answers are correct," Shiro says, "but you're lacking evidence of your method."  
  
"I was rushing," Keith says defensively.  
  
"You won't get all the marks if you don't show your working," Shiro reminds him. "Was this grade a shock to you?"  
  
Keith bites his lip. "Yes."  
  
"Do you usually skip that much?"  
  
"No," Keith admits. "But - I don't generally score highly in workings-out anyway. I don't know how to get all the marks." This test had been worse than usual, though, and Keith had panicked when he'd got it back.  
  
"Alright," Shiro says, flipping to the first page. "Tell me how you'd work this out." Keith hesitates, and Shiro notices. "You got it right," he reassures. "Just tell me how you got there."  
  
Keith feels stupid explaining every step he took to get the answer; whenever he skips something, intentionally or not, Shiro prompts him with a, "You missed a bit," or, "But before that?" and he's gentle about it, but Keith doesn't look at him, tries to concentrate on picturing equations in his head and getting them down on paper.  
  
They move slowly to the next question, and the next, and Keith finds it difficult, angry at himself for stammering over his answers and embarrassed when all Shiro does is smile encouragingly at him, almost wishing Shiro would be sharp or get impatient just so Keith could be sure whether or not he's wasting Shiro's time.  
  
"Shiro," Keith says, exasperated, so close to the end of the test but, "I really don't know how I got there."  
  
"Think," Shiro presses, and Keith scowls.  
  
"I _am_."  
  
"The method is just as important as the answer," Shiro says patiently. "Look, you're missing out on two marks just because you don't - "  
  
Keith makes a frustrated noise and throws his pen down. "I don't _get_  it! I don't get any of it, there's no _point_ , it's only a few marks - "  
  
"Hey." Shiro touches Keith's wrist, forcing Keith's attention back to him. "Don't get upset about it. You'll figure it out."  
  
Shiro's tone is so earnest, so patient, and Keith takes a deep breath before looking at him. It's difficult to stay angry when Shiro does this; shows that he really does want to help Keith, that he really will sit here until Keith understands. Keith's never been the focus of such single-minded determination, and it makes him a little bit more willing to try.  
  
"Okay," Keith says slowly, and Shiro smiles at him. "What am I missing?"

 

* * *

 

"So what made you change your mind?" Shiro asks when they're packing up. Keith glances at him.  
  
"About what?"  
  
"Me helping you with your work, as well."  
  
"Oh," Keith says, and hesitates. "I - you're not what I thought you'd be."  
  
"Yeah?" Shiro says, his grin slightly smug, and Keith smirks at him.  
  
"Thought you'd be a mini Iverson," Keith says truthfully, and Shiro puts a hand to his heart, expression wounded.  
  
"Keith," he says plaintively.  
  
Keith punches his shoulder. "Shut up." He bites his lip, considering, and then says, "Just, you know - you were right about sparring being a good outlet. We've gotten to know each other better." Keith stops there, because any further extolling of Shiro's virtues would bring too much smugness for him to bear.  
  
Shiro's smile is soft, though. "Thank you, then," he says, "for trusting me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave a comment if you enjoyed!


	5. Chapter 5

It's different, having someone care.  
  
Keith knows his teachers do care about his progress, about him, but he's just one face in a classroom full of them, and it was easy for Keith to slip away, easier still to give up, and to be given up on.  
  
Shiro doesn't give up on him.  
  
It's new, having all of someone's attention, having someone who listens, offers Keith help but doesn't make him take it, teaches Keith but doesn't treat him like a child, someone who's patient, someone who _cares_ , and it makes Keith care, too.  
  
He isn't perfect, isn't _fixed_. He still skips assignments he doesn't deem worth his time. He still talks back to teachers if he disagrees. He's still sharp and prickly and pushes other students away.  
  
But his work ethic is improving. Now when Keith skips an assignment, Shiro's disappointed face stirs up guilt in his chest. When Shiro questions why Keith was sent out of a lesson, Keith feels ashamed recounting his impertinence, and it's almost enough to put him off doing it. Almost.  
  
Shiro never asks why Keith doesn't really have any friends, but sometimes Keith feels embarrassed about that too.  
  
It isn't all smooth-sailing, however. Keith admits Shiro did well with getting him to express his anger - by kicking his ass four times a week, that is - but Keith doesn't submit quite that easily; pushes Shiro and frustrates him and sees him gritting his teeth against sharp remarks in return. Sure, it's nice to be cared about, to be challenged and pushed to his limits for once, but it isn't always _fun_.  
  
"I'm tired," Keith says. He isn't. He wants Shiro to get out of his room and quit bothering him with physics equations.  
  
Shiro knows this. "We've only been here an hour."  
  
"Yeah, but - "  
  
"You have a test tomorrow." Keith scowls at him. "You're still missing marks, Keith, and if we need to sit here all night before you start picking them up, that's fine by me."  
  
"You wouldn't," Keith says, scoffing. "You value your beauty sleep too much."  
  
His comment gets half a smirk from Shiro - that's how Keith knows he's pushing it. "Try me," Shiro says, voice flush with authority, and Keith swallows and looks back at his notes.  
  
The next day, he passes the test with flying colours.

 

* * *

 

It makes sense that he's thinking about Shiro a lot more. He sees Shiro nearly every day, adhering to the schedule Shiro made, because Keith is being a good little boy and a model student - and also because Shiro's smile makes those hours of work worth bearing.  
  
At first Keith keeps finding himself considering Shiro's opinion - is this an efficient use of his time; is this going to be helpful in the future? - on everything he does. It's as helpful as it is annoying, and Keith doesn't always pay attention to what Shiro thinks would be best. But when he _does_  do something he knows would meet with Shiro's approval, Keith can't help but feel a little pleased with himself. Sometimes he texts Shiro, something like, _I'm writing an absolutely pointless essay on space politics, are you proud?_  and Shiro always replies with a dumb smiley face that makes Keith's heart feel stupidly warm.  
  
After a while, Keith's thoughts turn a little less appropriate.  
  
The look in Shiro's eyes as he pins Keith down. Shiro's grip strong on Keith's wrists. Shiro's smirk as he helps Keith up, metal hand cool in Keith's for the split-second before they part.  
  
That isn't too bad, Keith thinks. He's always known Shiro's attractive, after all - he has half the Garrison drooling after him at any given moment, and Keith had always prided himself for not being so susceptible, but he wasn't _blind_.  
  
Now, he finds his gaze lingering on Shiro's shoulders, arms, thighs; feels a curl of heat in his belly when Shiro smiles at him like _that_ , finds Shiro's name on his lips when he comes.  
  
It doesn't _mean_ anything, Keith tells himself furiously.  
  
Nothing at all.

 

* * *

 

"Ha!" Shiro exclaims when he finally pins Keith down, and Keith grins despite himself.  
  
"Afraid you were gonna lose, old man?"  
  
"Never," Shiro says smugly, and his smirk makes Keith's heart race.  
  
Shiro doesn't let him up. Keith doesn't try to move, just gazes up at Shiro, wonders if Shiro's searching Keith's face like Keith is searching his, and they're so close, it'd be so easy to lean up and press their lips together -  
  
"Um," Shiro says, grin still in place as he shifts back, and Keith is abruptly aware of everywhere they're touching, of Shiro pressed up against him and so close, _t_ _oo_  close. Shiro gets to his feet, but Keith still feels like there's a weight pressing down on his chest.  
  
It takes him a moment to register Shiro holding a hand out to him, and he lets Shiro pull him up, slightly dazed.  
  
Shiro starts correcting Keith's form and technique, but Keith is hardly listening, wondering what Shiro would have done if Keith had leaned up and kissed him.

 

* * *

 

The next time is even _worse_.  
  
This time, Keith has been sly - wriggling out of Shiro's hold, darting out from under him - so when Shiro finally catches him and pins him down, it's to make sure Keith can't get up again: pressing Keith's wrists into the floor, a hand beside Keith's head and a knee between Keith's legs to hold himself up, but just barely - they're almost pressed together, stretched out full length along the floor like this, and Keith feels heat flare in his belly as Shiro's eyes burn into his.  
  
He thinks Shiro knows it's different, too, because Shiro stares down at him a moment too long before murmuring, "Got you," too quiet for his usual bragging.  
  
"Yeah," Keith says breathlessly, and he swears there's a blush rising to Shiro's cheeks.  
  
Keith flexes his hands experimentally, but Shiro holds tight, keeping Keith down. This time Keith shudders involuntarily at the thought of Shiro pinning him down like this in a far less innocent situation, and as if Shiro hears what Keith's thinking he starts to move, intending to stand and offer Keith a hand up too, like they usually do.  
  
Shiro's knee brushes where Keith's almost - trying desperately not to but _almost_  - getting hard, and Keith has to bite back a whimper, breath caught in his throat. Shiro doesn't notice, manages to get up without rubbing up against Keith any more than necessary, and Keith remains on the floor, legs slightly spread where Shiro had been kneeling between them.  
  
_Holy shit_ , Keith thinks hysterically, and he _is_  getting hard now, impossible to hide in his training wear and he leaps to his feet, turning away from Shiro.  
  
Shiro claps him on the shoulder. "You were amazing today," he says, and the praise goes straight to Keith's traitorous cock, "The evasion was good, you've got a real advantage there."  
  
Keith manages an utterly false laugh and bounces slightly on the spot, waiting for Shiro to let him go.  
  
"See you later, then," he says when Shiro doesn't continue, already walking quickly towards the exit, and Shiro looks confused but raises a hand to him anyway.  
  
The showers on Keith's floor are blessedly empty at this time of day, and so Keith is free to discard his clothes in the open and get a hand around his cock as soon as the cubicle door is locked behind him.  
  
He breathes out in a long hiss, eyes falling closed at the simple touch after being pinned for what felt like _ages_ under Shiro, remembering the feeling of being _caught_ , unable to escape, and Keith moans quietly, hand moving quicker as he imagines soft sheets at his back rather than a hard gym floor and Shiro leaning down over him, _covering_  him, escape the last thing on his mind.  
  
His fantasies always slow there, the feeling of Shiro exerting his strength over Keith usually enough to bring him off embarrassingly quickly, but Keith doesn't know what he'd do next, what _Shiro_  would do next.  
  
He thumbs the head of his cock, teases the sensitive underside and, embarrassment not quite enough to quell his desire, imagines it's Shiro touching him like this. Shiro has lovely hands, large and graceful and so much _bigger_  than Keith's, and Keith bites back a whimper, gripping firmer, moving faster as he thinks about those hands all over him, teasing him, pushing him to the edge and then -  
  
Keith thinks suddenly of Shiro's hands on his thighs, spreading his legs so Shiro can fit between them, and Keith comes with a cry he can't quite muffle in time, knees buckling and sending him forward to brace himself against the tile.  
  
He breathes deeply, reaching up to switch the shower on, and as hot water pours over him, washes away his shame, Keith feels the first stirrings of embarrassment. He comforts himself with the fact that Shiro will never find out that Keith has dirty little fantasies about him, that it's Shiro's name on Keith's lips when he comes, but then that thought makes him feel kind of sordid.  
  
Keith showers absently, his mind caught on Shiro. Going from thoughts about Shiro pinning him down to how seeing him makes Keith's day a little better and his shoulders a little lighter should warn him, somehow, that this is going too far. Keith's treading dangerous territory letting Shiro in like this, letting Shiro become such an important part of his life that Keith barely remembers a time without him, the way he makes Keith's chest all warm and light, and replaces Keith's terror of never being enough with a flicker of hope that he _is_  good, he _can_  be something.

Shiro's turning him into a sap, Keith realises, switching off the water. How  _embarrassing_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's physically impossible for me to write keith without a praise kink sorry i don't make the rules
> 
> anyway this is jerking off with a side of introspection, i guess
> 
> please leave a comment if you enjoyed!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is pretty short but i promise i'll be making it up to you next week!

Keith stops in the doorway of the training deck. He sees Shiro immediately - he's training with one of the robots, clearly set on a highly advanced level, and Keith watches him duck and parry and strike, spellbound.  
  
His heart is racing as though he's doing something illicit, and Keith is careful not to draw attention to himself. Shiro's hot and sweating, and as Keith watches he peels his shirt off before launching into another training sequence. Keith can't take his eyes off the ripple of Shiro's back and the flex of his arms as he fights, and he inhales sharply as Shiro runs a hand through his hair.  
  
The robot goes wide on the next strike, and Shiro leaps out of the way, spinning to avoid leaving his back exposed, and that's when he notices Keith.  
  
_Shit_ , Keith thinks frantically.  
  
Shiro disarms the robot with a solid kick to its chest and calls out to dismiss the sequence, waving Keith over. Keith hesitates, hoping he isn't red in the face, and approaches slowly.  
  
Someone shouts something at Shiro, and as Shiro turns to respond with a grin Keith realises he's with his friends.  
  
_Shit_.  
  
"Hey," Shiro says cheerfully. He's wiping himself down with a towel, and Keith tries very, very hard to keep his gaze above Shiro's shoulders. His mouth is dry.  
  
"Hi," he says, wondering if it's weird for him to approach Shiro like this.  
  
It is. It definitely is.  
  
"Is everything okay?" Shiro asks. He rubs the towel briefly over his hair, and it becomes chaos that Keith wants to reach up and run his fingers through. "We weren't going to meet till tomorrow, right?"  
  
Keith takes a half-step back, arms crossing defensively over his chest. He feels like his heart is in his throat and hears himself respond, "What, am I not allowed to talk to you in front of your friends?"  
  
Avoiding Shiro's amused gaze, Keith fixes his eyes somewhere on the opposite wall. He sees someone coming towards them, recognising him as the asshole from his flying theory class, and sighs, wondering if this situation could get any more embarrassing.  
  
"Oh, so _this_  is your pet project!" the kid says gleefully, slinging an arm around Shiro's shoulders and grinning at Keith. Keith tenses. "We've heard all about you."  
  
"Shut up, Lance," Shiro says easily, though he's a little pink in the face. Keith wonders if Shiro's blush ever goes all the way down his chest, and feels a little hot himself, quickly redirecting his gaze. "Keith, this is Lance; Lance, Keith."  
  
"We've met," Lance says, and Keith raises an eyebrow.  
  
"We have?"  
  
Lance's smug expression disappears as his face falls. "Wha - yeah, we're in the same flight theory class!"  
  
"I know _that_ ," Keith says, annoyed.  
  
"I almost beat you in the test a week ago!" Lance looks put-out. "McClain and Kogane, ultimate rivals? No?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Fine," Lance says. He turns to Shiro. "Teach him some manners next time you're _s_ _tudying_ , okay?"  
  
"I'm standing right here," Keith says, trying not to think about the emphasis Lance put on 'studying,' and what that could mean, and what Shiro might have told him -  
  
"Leave off," Shiro tells Lance, who sticks his tongue out. Shiro raises his voice and says, "Hunk, would you collect your infant?" earning a disgruntled, "Hey!" from Lance.  
  
"Please," says someone Keith hasn't seen before, approaching the group and rolling his eyes good-naturedly. "Lance is at least a toddler."  
  
"Cradle-robber," Shiro says, laughing, then holds up a finger as Lance opens his mouth. "Don't," Shiro and Hunk say simultaneously. Lance darts a glance at Keith, and Keith fumes quietly, catching their drift. He doesn't know whether to be embarrassed or pissed off, but he's pretty sure he has cause for both, and avoids Shiro's eyes.  
  
"You're Keith, right?" Hunk says. His smile is warm, and Keith feels a little less like the butt of a joke. "I'm Hunk."  
  
He extends a hand for Keith to shake, and Keith hesitates before taking it.  
  
"Keith, yeah," he says awkwardly. Shiro smiles at him when he looks up, and Keith has a moment of dread for the inevitable lesson he'll get later, where Shiro will tell him that he _is_  capable of making friends, he just chooses not to.  
  
There's a silence Keith is afraid will never break, and then Shiro says, "I'll see you guys later, I gotta shower." He looks expectantly at Keith.  
  
"I have to, uh - check my schedule," Keith manages. His graded pilot sim is tomorrow, and the times will be up on the board at 3pm - close enough, Keith thinks, checking his watch and seeing it's only half two. Thank God Lance is in his class for piloting too; they shouldn't ever be assigned to the same sim. Unless the world truly _does_  hate Keith.  
  
"Whatever," Lance says, letting go of Shiro and throwing an arm around Hunk instead. "Let's blow this joint."  
  
"No one says that anymore," Hunk says, voice fading out of earshot as he waves over his shoulder, and then Keith and Shiro are alone.  
  
"You've got your piloting sim tomorrow, right?" Shiro says.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"I'd give you the motivational speech now, but I'm seeing you in the morning anyway." Keith manages a laugh as Shiro picks up his forgotten towel and slings it around his neck. "Message me later, yeah?"  
  
"Yeah," Keith says again, and Shiro smiles at him before heading in the direction of the showers. Keith watches Shiro walk away, eyes lingering on Shiro's thighs - since when did Shiro wear _shorts_? - and turns away with some consternation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave a comment if you enjoyed!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh so here in the uk we say 'revise' instead of study. i'm pretty sure i succumbed to american pressure and mostly said study, but if not, that's the definition
> 
> this chapter is a MONSTER one so hopefully it makes up for last week
> 
> fun game: take a shot of water every time i use the cafe as a plot device. stay hydrated

When he quite literally bumps into Lance in the corridor, Keith's resulting shout is more to do with the precarious nature of the notes stuffed into his bag than anger at Lance, but at Lance's cocky smirk Keith easily summons some irritation for him too.  
  
"Watch where you're going," Keith huffs.  
  
"You watch where _you're_  going," Lance says easily, and Keith glares. Lance's gaze drops to Keith's bag. "Studying for the sim?"  
  
Keith tugs his bag closer to him. "Yes," he says. "Aren't you?"  
  
"I've studied," Lance says airily. Keith rolls his eyes. "Aren't you gonna wish me luck?"  
  
"If you've studied, you won't need it," Keith says, and then he sees Shiro and Hunk over Lance's shoulder. Hunk says something unintelligible and Lance turns around at the sound of his voice.  
  
"Light of my life," Lance says, beaming at Hunk, who looks unimpressed when he reaches them. "How I have missed you."  
  
"You only left ten minutes ago, dude. Hi, Keith," he adds.  
  
"I'm allowed to miss you in that time," Lance says obstinately, sliding an arm around Hunk's waist, and Keith makes awkward eye contact with Shiro and finally understands what it is to be a third wheel.  
  
"Have you been yet?" Hunk asks Lance, who shakes his head.  
  
"Keith bumped into me," he starts, and then amends, "I mean, he _shoved_  me - "  
  
"I did not!"  
  
" - and so my gallant quest remains incomplete."  
  
"Is this the quest for free coffee?" Shiro interjects curiously.  
  
"Yes," Hunk and Lance answer at the same time.  
  
"Right," Shiro says, rolling his eyes but tone remaining fond, and then he looks to Keith. "You feeling okay?" he asks.  
  
"Yeah," Keith says, ignoring Lance's smirk beside him. "Feeling like I'm gonna leave Lance in the dust on this one."  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"To be fair, if you spent more time revising and less time trying to rig video games into the Garrison computers with Pidge," Hunk starts, and Lance stares at him, betrayed.  
  
"Hunk!"  
  
"You're both gonna do _great_ ," Shiro says, a note of pride in his voice, and it makes Keith smile until he realises Lance is smiling in the same fond, proud way, and immediately scowls, really hoping he doesn't look at Shiro like that.  
  
Hunk makes a face at all three of them. "I was promised coffee," he announces, and starts walking, "and it is way too early for this."  
  
Keith's been up for hours, but he supposes not everyone is a morning person, and also suspects Hunk is here for Lance as moral support, which is - sweet, actually.  
  
"Traitor!" Lance shouts, dispelling any notion Keith might have had in that moment about Lance being deserving of Hunk.  
  
Seeing Keith's bemused expression, Lance fishes a dubious-looking note out of his pocket. "Someone heard people with exams are getting free coffee today," he explains in hushed tones. "Very exclusive."  
  
"Can't imagine why you got one then," Keith says.  
  
" _Anyway_ ," Shiro interrupts. "I guess we're going to the cafe." Lance waves the note under Keith's nose once more and turns to put it away. "Did you want to come?" Keith's confused for a moment until Shiro catches his eye.  
  
Shiro wants Keith to hang out with them?  
  
"Come on, Lance!" Hunk yells, and Lance winks at Keith before walking off. Keith glares at his retreating back.  
  
"You don't have to," Shiro adds. "I could still meet you later instead." He's always considerate, Keith thinks absently.  
  
Shiro runs his fingers through his hair with a lopsided smile. It's adorable and incredibly distracting, and Keith blames this for him saying, "Yeah, okay."  
  
Hunk and Shiro take pains to ensure Keith and Lance are neither opposite nor next to each other. Luckily, Lance seems distracted enough up at the counter in rattling off an elaborate and sugary coffee order, and so he also doesn't notice when Shiro gently bumps Keith's shoulder and whispers, "You okay?"  
  
It occurs to Keith that he feels a little coddled, but he also feels completely at ease, which is - something.  
  
He nods, looking at Shiro out of the corner of his eye, and Lance breaks the silence by loudly saying, "What are you lovebirds whispering about?" and making Shiro and Keith jump apart self-consciously.  
  
"Shut up, Lance," Shiro says, but there's no heat in it, and Lance grins at him as he sits down and throws an arm around Hunk's shoulder.  
  
Keith pulls his notes out and stares intently at them. Nothing more's going to go in at this point, but it makes him feel more prepared to be able to say he did revise properly.  
  
"I thought practical experience was better than theory?" Shiro asks, pretending to be confused as he looks down.  
  
"Don't start," Keith says, rolling his eyes. Shiro grins.  
  
"You wanna go over anything?"  
  
"No, I'm good," Keith answers. His biggest problem with working in a team, before, was that he wouldn't listen to his teammates, and made impulsive decisions without giving himself time to plan. Knowing this, Keith is sure he can improve on previous scores. It's true there's a disparity between the simulator scores he achieves alone versus in a team, and Keith's determined to close that gap.  
  
"I'm pretty sure Iverson is overseeing mine," Lance says, groaning. Keith winces in sympathy.  
  
"I hated pilot sims," Hunk says. "I always got stuck with Iverson too."  
  
"What was worse," Shiro asks, grinning, "the sim, or knowing Iverson was waiting for you after?"  
  
"That's impossible to answer."  
  
Keith checks the time and winces, running through manoeuvres and techniques and terminology in his head with ten minutes left until his slot. Lance gets up suddenly, expression for a moment implying he's about to walk to the gallows, and then he puts a hand on Keith's shoulder. Keith quickly shrugs him off.  
  
"Don't touch me."  
  
"My comrade in arms," Lance continues, undeterred, "I bid you farewell."  
  
"You're not going to _die_ ," Hunk says, and Keith laughs.  
  
"Not unless you crash," he says, and Lance scowls at him.  
  
"You know, they call me the Tailor - "  
  
"You're going to be late, Lance," Shiro says, and Lance squeaks and grabs his jacket.  
  
Keith's sim is just ten minutes later, and he bids goodbye to Hunk and Shiro and wonders if he's walking to his death, too.

 

* * *

 

Keith doesn't recognise the cadet already poking around the controls and hesitates, not wanting to startle them, but they turn around as he approaches and give him an appraising look.  
  
"I'm Pidge," they say, sticking a hand out for Keith to shake. Keith suddenly remembers hearing their name mentioned earlier.  
  
"Keith," he says, and Pidge's eyes widen in recognition too. Keith associates this expression with dread of whatever people next say, because it's always -  
  
"Oh, you hang out with Shiro, right?"  
  
Keith feels slightly embarrassed: it's been weeks and people's shock that _Keith_  could possibly be friends with _Shiro_  still needles at him, the rare times it comes up. He remembers the first day in the cafe, what an incongruous pair they had made, and feels annoyed that people can't seem to get over it. Keith reckons half the student population want to save Shiro from being tainted from his unruly ways, and the other half are just jealous.  
  
"Yeah, I do."  
  
"Cool," Pidge says. Keith is relieved they don't really seem to care. "I know Hunk and Lance - you've probably met them - so we all hang out sometimes."  
  
Keith is saved from having to reply by the arrival of their engineering officer, and then further conversation is impossible due to the sudden blaring of alarms and such violent rocking of their ship that they're all thrown to the floor.  
  
Pidge swears loudly under their breath, and Keith wholeheartedly agrees as he crawls towards the pilot's chair, grasping onto any solid handholds he can as their ship presumably takes heavy fire.  
  
It goes well, surprisingly enough. Keith keeps a cool head, communicates with his officers, puts thought into decisions instead of just making them on impulse. Following the rules wasn't boring, Keith thinks, somewhat amused: he felt in control of everything, and all went according to plan.  
  
He feels like he's still flying when he steps out of the simulator, a little bruised but no worse for wear, and when he sees Shiro waiting for him Keith can't help but smile, quickening his pace.  
  
"You were amazing!" Shiro says, beaming at Keith, and Keith grins back, feeling so happy he can't contain it.  
  
"Thank you," he says, removing his helmet and tucking it under his arm. Shiro reaches out and squeezes Keith's shoulder, and Keith feels even lighter.  
  
"Just - wow, Keith," Shiro says, voice full of something Keith can't place. "I'm so proud of you!"  
  
"Goes to show what I can do when I actually try," Keith says smugly, though he flushes at the praise.  
  
"Yeah," Shiro says eventually, rolling his eyes. "You wanna go to the cafe after? I'll buy you something, you deserve it."  
  
Keith's smile tightens a little. "Oh yeah, Lance would've finished his sim by now, right?"  
  
Shiro looks surprised. "Yeah, I guess," he acknowledges, and then smiles at Keith. "But I meant just us."

 

* * *

 

"Whatever I want?"  
  
"Whatever you want," Shiro confirms, laughing as Keith moves closer to the glass.  
  
"Even if it's covered in chocolate and full of sugar?" Keith asks, eyeing one such dessert and turning just in time to catch Shiro's put-upon look.  
  
"Even then," Shiro confirms, and Keith smirks, straightening up and leaning his hip against the counter.  
  
"You're not gonna lecture me on sugars and how they make me cranky?"  
  
Shiro pauses for a long moment. "I guess I could spare you the lecture," he says with an exaggerated sigh.  
  
Keith doesn't even have that much of a sweet tooth, to be honest, but he picks something sugary just to see Shiro's resigned, fond expression.  
  
They sit at the booth that's become theirs after months of meeting and working and revising here over dozens of coffees, and Keith listens to Shiro go on about the simulator for a while before he changes the subject to hopefully stop his stupid blushing.

 

* * *

 

Shiro walks Keith back to his dorm, after, and Keith feels a little flushed all the way there, because Shiro's room is nowhere near his and their hands are brushing and Shiro's walking Keith home like this was -  
  
Like it was a date, Keith realises, and promptly turns bright red.  
  
" - and then I - hey, are you alright?" Shiro asks, concerned, and Keith's heart flutters in alarm.  
  
"Yeah, fine," he says quickly, and Shiro smiles and continues with his story.  
  
They pause in the doorway, and Keith opens the door and lets it swing open behind him.  
  
"Did you want to come in?" he asks, immediately feeling embarrassed but they're friends, they're _friends_ , it's totally normal. They've hung out in their rooms before, Keith thinks crossly, why does he feel the need to overanalyse their interactions _now_?  
  
"I should get back," Shiro says apologetically, and they stand there for a second, just looking at each other.  
  
"Okay," Keith says, far too late.  
  
Shiro's hand is suddenly on his shoulder, and Keith hopes Shiro can't feel the tension that sang through him at the contact. Then Shiro leans in a little, and for one, agonising moment, Keith thinks Shiro is going to kiss him.  
  
His heart is beating so fast he's afraid Shiro can hear it, tries hard to keep his expression neutral and stares at Shiro and waits, just for a second.  
  
But Shiro smiles and says, "You did really well today," and Keith deflates a little and dredges up a smile too.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave a comment if you enjoyed!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hunk and shiro sparring? my kink

It's early morning, and so the last person Keith expects to see upon walking into the gym is Lance, who's sitting on a bench alone with his legs stretched out obnoxiously in front of him.  
  
Keith considers pretending not to see him, and then goes over anyway.  
  
"Keith, my man," Lance says, patting the space beside him.  
  
"I didn't know you existed before 11am," Keith says thoughtfully, but he takes the seat, dropping his bag to the floor. "What brings you here?"  
  
Lance gestures to the room, and when Keith looks up he grins.  
  
Shiro's sparring with Hunk, neither of them armed and relying on physical attacks to beat each other down but neither let up, both continuously defending and attacking, and Keith's never clear on who has the upper hand.  
  
"I can barely last against Shiro," Keith says admiringly. He isn't surprised - Hunk is a lot stronger than him; more able to match Shiro's strength - but it's fascinating, watching the two of them constantly attempt to outdo each other. Keith's seen Shiro spar with a few other people - friends in his own year, an instructor once or twice when Shiro wanted to give Keith a proper demonstration of a technique - but no one who could last like this, who parries every attack while launching attacks of their own. Keith's still waiting for the day he's able to take Shiro down.  
  
"I bet," Lance mutters, smirking when Keith looks at him in confusion, and then Keith scowls, not deigning to reply. "They don't like to spar often," Lance tells him, smiling fondly, "because they both end up with equal bruises and then they can't even brag about winning."  
  
Keith raises a questioning eyebrow.  
  
Lance shrugs. "The only way this ends," he says dramatically, "is when they get too tired and give up. It's no fun if you're not rubbing someone's face in the dirt, right?"  
  
"As if you would know," Keith mutters, loud enough for Lance to hear.  
  
Lance scowls at him. "I could beat you."  
  
They both know Lance is bluffing, and Keith considers for a moment whether to call him out and challenge him, but in the same moment Hunk and Shiro yell, "Truce!" and Keith gets distracted.

 

* * *

 

"Anyway, so I was thinking," Shiro says in the most faux-casual voice Keith has ever heard, and Keith is instantly suspicious.  
  
"Congratulations," Keith says when Shiro pauses for too long, and Shiro rolls his eyes.  
  
"You've got a flight theory test coming up." Keith groans at the reminder.  
  
"Feel like we should've had that _before_  the sim."  
  
"If you want to question Iverson's education style to his face, be my guest," Shiro says, laughing. "Anyway - Hunk and I were thinking that because you and Lance are in the same class - "  
  
Oh no.  
  
" - that you should study together! Do you know," Shiro continues, talking fast because he knows Keith is about to interrupt, "studying with someone else is really beneficial."  
  
"I study with you," Keith points out irritably, thinking about how to phrase his outburst. Study with Lance? No way. Does Lance even revise, Keith wonders, or does he just waltz in on the day of the exam and do just as good as Keith without trying?  
  
"This will be even _more_  beneficial," Shiro tells him, "because you and Lance are learning the same stuff. This is last year's content, for me and Hunk. We're probably rusty."  
  
Keith gives him a look. "You, rusty?" he asks sardonically, and Shiro has the good grace to grimace. "And," Keith starts, pausing for effect, "I am _not_  studying with Lance. Absolutely not."  
  
"But - "  
  
"My grades will suffer," Keith emphasises. " _I_  will suffer. That'll reflect badly on you, _mentor_."  
  
"Hunk and I aren't in your year," Shiro says mildly. "This isn't fresh in our minds the way it is for you two. I think this will really help, Keith," and Shiro's voice is so earnest Keith almost starts nodding along, "especially since you and Lance have different learning styles; discussing it will be even more effective for your revision."  
  
"By different learning styles, I think you mean I like to work in silence, and Lance likes to _study_  so loudly he gets told off."  
  
Shiro makes a face. Keith knows he's also remembering the time they stumbled upon Hunk and Lance 'revising' in the library, staying just long enough to hear the librarian finally throw down her pen and yell, " _McClain_!"  
  
" _I_  think," Shiro says, determined, "that it will help."  
  
Keith glares.  
  
"Please, Keith."  
  
"There's no _point_  - "  
  
"For me?" and oh God, Shiro is making pleading eyes at him.  
  
Keith's glare inevitably softens.  
  
"I - fine," he says crossly. "But I don't see how it will help, and you _know_  me and Lance are going to argue - "  
  
"Bonding time," Shiro says enthusiastically, and there's no way Keith can be angry at Shiro when his smile is that wide.

 

* * *

 

"The worst thing about this," Lance says as he lets Keith into his room, "is that I can't even blame you for it."  
  
Keith drops his bag to the floor and sits down. "Likewise."  
  
Lance sits beside him, and there's a long silence. Keith gets out a pen and his notebook and stares at them.  
  
"We need motivation," he says eventually, slumping in his seat. He ignores how much he sounds like Shiro.  
  
"What could possibly motivate me to work with _you_?"  
  
"Shiro's disappointed face," Keith offers. That certainly motivates _him_  on his worst days.  
  
"Wrong," Lance says smugly. "Shiro's always disappointed in me. I'm immune."  
  
" _Hunk's_  disappointed face."  
  
Lance's face falls. "My only weakness," he mourns, and Keith smirks. "I can't believe Hunk was conniving enough to do this to me."  
  
Keith would say the same about Shiro, but it just isn't true. This is exactly the kind of thing Shiro thrives off: enforced teamwork and co-operation. "You could get him back for it."  
  
"I can't exact revenge on Hunk," Lance says, appalled. "That'd be like kicking a puppy."  
  
"Fine," Keith says, flipping open his notebook. "Suffer. If you let him get away with it he'll do it again."  
  
That seems to occupy Lance. "I can't make him sleep on the couch," he muses thoughtfully. "I'd miss him too much."  
  
"Gross."  
  
"Don't be too jealous, now."  
  
"I am _not_ , believe me."  
  
Keith considers the first practice question, picturing the equation in his head, and then Lance interrupts and the thought goes up in smoke. "What are you gonna do about Shiro? I bet you anything this was his idea."  
  
"What do you mean, what am _I_  gonna do about it?"  
  
Lance is blissfully silent for a moment, and Keith looks at him curiously.  
  
"At least I know Hunk will make good on his promises after this," Lance says conversationally, and Keith coughs.  
  
"Stop talking."  
  
Lance's grin is smug. "How did Shiro convince you?"  
  
Now that Keith thinks about it, 'he gave me puppy eyes,' isn't really a valid explanation.  
  
"Uh," he says, frozen. "He didn't. I'm here out of the goodness of my heart." He fails to achieve the bitterly sarcastic tone he was going for, and Lance scoffs.  
  
"I know _that's_  a lie."  
  
"Well," Keith starts, and pauses again.  
  
"Well, what? Don't tell me Shiro just batted those pretty eyelashes of his and you agreed."  
  
Keith blushes.  
  
"No way."  
  
Keith tries to scowl.  
  
"Weak," Lance says smugly, but he seems satisfied now he's got his answer, and doesn't comment further, which Keith is grateful for. "You gotta at least get a good deal out of it, come on."

 

* * *

 

"Well, this wasn't horrible," Keith says later, once they've bickered and revised and shouted and tested each other at least three times each and finally, _finally_  got above 90%.  
  
"Speak for yourself," Lance says lazily, rocking back in his chair, but Keith doesn't actually despise him as much as he did a few hours ago, which is a minor miracle. He even feels prepared for the flight theory test. No doubt Iverson will give them catastrophically difficult questions, but Keith remembers all his equations and theories, at least.  
  
He rolls his eyes, and Lance grins.  
  
"You wanna go find the others?"  
  
"Sure," Keith says amiably. He's kind of dreading Shiro's smug face when he admits studying with Lance was _somewhat_  helpful, if he's honest, but it's true that it was useful, and Keith guesses he's gonna have to give a reluctant thank you.

Not that he'll ever admit that to Lance, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave a comment if you enjoyed!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if humans can go to kerberos, they can take students to the moon, ok

His phone goes off at a horrendous hour in the morning - Keith wakes every day at six, but five is too unholy even for him - and Keith is ready to kill whoever dared message him this early.  
  
He gets two more notifications - two more shrill beeps in his ear - before he finally gives in and fumbles around for his phone, already composing an angry reply in his head before he sees they're from Shiro.  
  
Shiro's been chosen for the moon mission, Keith reads, and the amount of exclamation marks makes his head swim.  
  
The other two messages are an apology for the early hour, and then a _second_  apology for giving Keith even more notifications that are bound to wake him up.  
  
Keith blinks blearily at the glowing light of his phone in the darkness, smile widening because Shiro's such a _dork_ , and he's been going on about this mission for weeks and weeks and Keith is so utterly relieved that he got the place.  
  
Not that he ever doubted it, of course. Shiro inevitably getting a place was obvious to everyone but himself, and Keith had watched him worrying and fretting over extra credit work and doing favours for teachers, knowing without question that Shiro would get in.  
  
Keith barely concentrates on his reply, making sure it's in capitals and full of exclamation marks to accurately reflect how pleased he is. Shiro sounded so _excited_ , and Keith can't wait to see him later, to talk about space and his first venture into it and his first proper _mission_ , because Shiro's happiness always makes Keith happy, too. He doesn't know what it is - Shiro rambling instead of choosing his words carefully, his bright eyes and brighter smile, the excitement in his voice - but Keith could listen to Shiro talk about something he loves all day.

 

* * *

 

Shiro leaves a week later. Keith smiles and wishes him luck and feels bereft as soon as Shiro's gone.  
  
There's no contact between students, only the professors communicating their progress to the Garrison, and Keith knows he's facing a long four days.  
  
The first day, Keith hesitates where he would have usually met up with Shiro, Hunk and Lance because - what if they don't want to hang out with him? What if they only put up with him for Shiro's sake?  
  
"Hey, Keith!"  
  
Keith tenses automatically, turning to follow the voice, but it's Hunk smiling behind him.  
  
"Haven't seen you all day, buddy," Hunk says easily, and Keith swallows.  
  
"Oh," Keith says lamely. "Yeah."  
  
Hunk appraises him for a moment, and Keith shrinks under his gaze. "You doing okay?"  
  
"Yeah," Keith says automatically, and he smiles in an effort to be more convincing.  
  
"I made cookies," Hunk says in a wheedling voice, and Keith can't help a real smile at that.  
  
"I thought you weren't allowed in the kitchens anymore."  
  
"Well," Hunk says defensively, "if there isn't anyone in there at the time..."  
  
"Wow," Keith says, pretending to be disappointed. "And it was empty for what, a whole hour?"  
  
Hunk looks scandalised. " _Fifteen_  minutes, Keith!"  
  
"I don't know," Keith says, finding himself actually laughing, "I've never baked cookies, have I?"  
  
"You know, we should," Hunk says decisively. "I can't believe you really said to my face that you'd put cookies in the oven for an hour."

 

* * *

 

Keith makes an effort, after that. Hunk and Lance _are_  his friends - he feels embarrassed to have doubted that, but after spending most of his time at the Garrison alone, he reckons he's entitled to a little self-doubt.  
  
Especially where Lance is concerned.  
  
"Can I borrow your unit 3 notes?" Keith asks stiffly. Lance's eyebrows raise comically.  
  
"The great Keith Kogane," he says, inhaling dramatically, "wants to borrow _my_  notes?"  
  
Keith folds his arms, unamused. "I skipped the lesson." He's sure it was due to something important, or something to do with moral high ground, but at this moment Keith wishes he'd sucked it up and gone to the class purely so he didn't have to owe _Lance_ , of all people.  
  
"Of course you did, you rebel," Lance says, rolling his eyes, but he opens the door wider to allow Keith in and shuts it behind them, walking backwards into the room. "Welcome to my humble abode."  
  
"Where's Hunk?" Keith asks before the silence stretches too long.  
  
"Holed up in the lab," Lance says. He drags a box out from under his bed and begins rifling through folders, humming to himself. "Did you say unit 3?"  
  
"Yeah," Keith says, leaning against the door. Lance's room is organised much like his own, and it disappoints Keith that Lance is just as clean as he is. Though, he supposes, there are regulations to obey. "Figured I should actually study for this exam," he adds, "since there's no way I'm letting you beat me."  
  
Lance clicks his tongue, pulling out a sheaf of meticulously highlighted notes. Keith is reluctantly impressed. "Lucky Shiro isn't around to hear these vicious attacks on my character," Lance says, straightening up and proffering the stack of paper. Keith feels his heart seize for a moment - Shiro's absence like an ache in his chest - but Lance blithely continues, "Anyway, you can borrow these for a couple days at most, because _I_  need them to kick your ass. You're lucky I'm still revising unit 2."  
  
"Maybe we could study together," Keith says with a deliberately sweet smile, and Lance scowls.  
  
"Never again," he says, shaking his head. "Now, out. Stop darkening my doorstep with your mullet, it makes my room look shabby."  
  
"I'll bring them back on Monday," Keith promises. He figures he can cover most of the content he missed, and he'll photocopy what he doesn't have time for. "Thanks."

 

* * *

 

Keith survives, somehow. He hangs out with Lance and Hunk and occasionally Pidge, when they're not holed up in the lab; sighs and complains his way through a couple assignments; tries to avoid obsessively counting down the hours until Shiro's return, and doesn't really succeed.  
  
He doesn't meet Shiro off the ship when he gets back.  
  
He _wants_  to, almost agrees to go with Hunk and Lance, but something stops him. There's some kind of embarrassment fluttering in his chest, something residual of that idea of not belonging, and Keith can't shake the feeling despite knowing he's being ridiculous; can't help overanalysing his actions and wondering if they convey more than friendship, desperate to keep his secret.  
  
Keith sits straight-backed in his chair, fiddling with his nails and trying not to think about Shiro, because it's only been four days and Keith can wait. He can wait to see Shiro.  
  
Four days can seem like a lifetime, Keith thinks, and with that he stands up quickly, crossing the room and resolving to find Shiro, and apologise for not meeting him off the ship, and -   
  
There's a knock at the door just as Keith reaches it.  
  
"Keith!" Shiro says enthusiastically.  
  
For one moment Keith just looks at Shiro - takes in the bags under his eyes and the graze marring his cheek and the way he's putting more weight on his left leg - and then Keith finds himself flying forward and wrapping his arms around him.  
  
It's not the first time he's wanted to initiate contact, but it's the first time he _has_ , and it feels momentous to be holding Shiro like this, holding tight so he can't leave again.  
  
"Hey, woah," Shiro says, and Keith feels more than hears his laugh as Shiro's arms wrap around him too. "Miss me?"  
  
Keith just breathes for a moment, hiding his face in Shiro's neck as he clings to him, and then pulls away so he can look up at Shiro.  
  
"Yeah," Keith says, trying to sound nonchalant and casual as though he hadn't just been clinging to Shiro as though his life depended on it. "Missed your nagging," he adds, and Shiro grins. His hand's still on Keith's waist, and he squeezes once before pulling away.  
  
"Come in," Keith says, missing the contact as he pulls away completely, moving backwards into his room. They sit on the bed, and Keith feels like he's vibrating out of his skin being so close to Shiro after what feels like weeks apart. "So? How did it go?"  
  
Shiro bursts like he'd been waiting forever for Keith to ask. "It was _amazing_ ," he exclaims. "We got to be so much more involved, try new things - we were pretty much independent."  
  
" _I_ wouldn't let you loose on a space colony," Keith says, and he laughs and ducks when Shiro tries to ruffle his hair.  
  
"You know Pidge, right?" Keith nods. "Their dad and brother went, and they were really great to talk to and work with - and they said something about working together when we got back, as well, so." Shiro beams.  
  
"That's really great, Shiro," Keith says warmly. "Did you have fun, as well as being a massive dork?"  
  
"That's what made it fun," Shiro protests, and this time he does succeed in messing up Keith's hair. When their laughter dies down, Keith finds Shiro looking at him.  
  
"I thought about you a lot." Shiro's tone is casual, and Keith's gaze snaps to him.  
  
"Yeah?" Keith asks, because he doesn't think he could say anything else, heart beating out of his chest.  
  
"Yeah," says Shiro. "Wondered how many teachers I'd have to sweet-talk to save you from detention, if I'd have to arrange Hunk counselling sessions for when you went round the bend, and then I'd have to arrange Lance's funeral - "  
  
"Enough, enough!" Keith says indignantly, punching Shiro in the arm, and Shiro laughs loud, eyes crinkling at the corners.  
  
"I missed you," Shiro says after a moment, and when Keith looks at him, still smiling, Shiro's expression is soft. It makes Keith's heart stutter in his chest.  
  
"I missed you too, Takashi," Keith says quietly, and he's a little embarrassed by the slip but Shiro's smile makes it worth it, eyes warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this has been two weeks of like minimal shiro n i'm sorry omg but keith's PINING, guys
> 
> and next week will make up for it ;)
> 
> please leave a comment if you enjoyed!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think this is my favourite chapter
> 
> it's also MASSIVE so i hope y'all enjoy !!
> 
> (not really a warning as such as it's very minor and there's nothing graphic, but shiro has a nightmare in the opening bit, just so you know)

Keith stares blearily at the page, words blurring together as he blinks hard to stay awake. He glances over at Shiro, opening his mouth to share his pain, but he's shocked to see that Shiro is asleep, slumped over his books with hair falling in his face.  
  
A small smile comes involuntary to Keith's lips, heart warming at the thought that Shiro trusts Keith enough to be vulnerable around him.  
  
Keith studies for another hour alone, figuring that Shiro _must_  need the sleep if he's capable of falling asleep in front of Keith, of all people, until a small sound breaks the silence. His gaze immediately snaps to Shiro, who's shifting slightly but not entirely awake, and Keith freezes.  
  
It's not Keith that's disturbing Shiro, though: Shiro starts to mumble unintelligibly, the fingers of his prosthetic clenching and unclenching where they lay on the table. Keith watches carefully, unsure if he should wake him.  
  
"No," Shiro whispers, so quietly Keith leans closer to make out the word, and then, "No!" making Keith leap back in fear, instantly alert.  
  
"Shiro," Keith whispers, knowing now he should wake Shiro up, take him away from whatever he's seeing in his sleep. "Shiro." His fingers tremble closer to Shiro's arm, but Keith doesn't want to touch him in case he startles or frightens him further.  
  
Shiro's face is crumpled with an emotion Keith can't decipher - grief, pain, fear - and Keith lays tentative fingers on Shiro's human arm.  
  
Immediately, Shiro's hand comes up and grabs his, and Keith freezes again, suddenly anticipating an attack. "Shiro," Keith tries again. "It's me, Keith." He squeezes Shiro's hand and Shiro's grip tightens almost to the point of pain; Keith thinks wildly that had he been on Shiro's right, Shiro's prosthetic fingers could have crushed his. "You're safe."  
  
Shiro's eyes open as Keith continues talking quietly to him, murmured reassurances of safety and warmth and _I'm here_ , and Keith has never been so relieved to see Shiro's confused gaze blinking up at him.  
  
"Keith," Shiro tries, voice cracking from disuse. "Keith, what did I - are you - " He realises in that moment their hands are linked, and a flush rises to Shiro's cheeks as he pulls away. Keith mourns the loss immediately.  
  
"I think you had a nightmare," he says quietly, and Shiro's eyes grow wide and - scared, Keith realises, an expression he's never seen on Shiro.  
  
"I'm sorry," is the first thing Shiro says, and Keith frowns.  
  
"You have nothing to be sorry for," he tries. "I - it's okay. You're safe here."  
  
"I shouldn't have put you through it, too," Shiro says, trying for a smile.  
  
"Shiro," Keith says emphatically. "I mean it. It's okay."  
  
Shiro takes a shuddering breath. His fingers are still trembling, and Keith reaches over and impulsively takes his hand again.  
  
"You're safe here," Keith repeats, and Shiro's expression when he finally looks up is vulnerable but warm.  
  
"Thank you," Shiro says, looking at Keith's small hand resting in his own. His next words seem to be a struggle, and Shiro bites his lip and stares down at the table before finally, "I - I don't want to be alone."  
  
Keith thinks about staying up all night with Shiro, about trying to take Shiro's mind off his nightmare, but what spills out of his mouth is, "You - can sleep in here tonight. If you want."  
  
Both their eyes are wide when they glance up at each other, and Keith worries his lip with his teeth.  
  
Keith is not a sharing kind of person. Not with his possessions, not his spot on top of the leaderboards, and most particularly not his sleeping space. He sleeps with a knife under his pillow, and Keith knows he is utterly incapable of falling asleep with others in the room, people close enough to attack while his guard is down, close enough to threaten.  
  
As a student, he's had to go on many trips and trials and tests, like how long they can survive in the wild, or playing out a simulation in a nuclear bunker. Keith always offers to take first watch, and then ends up staying awake for everyone else's shifts as well. He feels too exposed; no one knows what he is like at his most vulnerable, and Keith covets that ignorance.  
  
"Are you sure?" Shiro says uncertainly, and Keith feels desperately unsure himself until he registers the tremble in Shiro's voice.  
  
Keith nods. "Yeah," he says, with a confidence he does not feel. "I'll sleep on the floor, and you can - "  
  
"Hey, no," Shiro says with a frown. "I'm not taking your bed away from you."  
  
"It's fine," Keith says - he knows he won't sleep, and it's essential that Shiro is comfortable and warm and safe, especially in an unfamiliar environment, in Keith's room.  
  
Shiro just looks puzzled. "We can share."  
  
Keith nearly chokes on his tongue, but manages a normal reply instead of any of the terrible things Shiro's words set racing through his brain. "We won't fit."  
  
"We'll manage," Shiro says, lifting his chin, and Keith recognises that look - Shiro's made a decision and he will not be swayed. Then Shiro's resolve falters. "I mean if that's - if you're comfortable with that, I mean."  
  
"Course I am," Keith assures him quickly, and then realises he's agreed.  
  
"Sorted, then," Shiro says, determined. "So do you want to - "  
  
"Did you mean now, or - "  
  
They stop, sheepish smiles on their faces, and Shiro motions that Keith should speak.  
  
"So did you mean - do you want to go to bed now?" Keith says, feeling his face go hot at the implication.  
  
"Yeah," Shiro says, achieving the nonchalance that Keith was going for. "Having a nightmare makes me feel like I haven't slept at all. It's late, anyway."  
  
Shiro goes to the bathroom first, while Keith half-heartedly tidies his desk and kicks some of his dirty laundry under the bed. He gets the extra pillow out of the wardrobe, tucks his knife down the side of the bed, and uncertainly examines the size of his single mattress.  
  
He expresses his concerns to Shiro when he returns, who waves Keith off with a, "It'll be fine," and then takes his turn in the bathroom, mind turning over and over as he brushes his teeth, stupidly nervous.  
  
When he returns, Shiro is standing in just his boxers. In Keith's room. About to sleep in Keith's bed.  
  
"So how do you want to do this?" Shiro asks. Keith notices Shiro's fingers are trembling at his sides, and resolves not to be weird. This is to help Shiro. Keith would do anything to make Shiro feel safe.  
  
"I want to be closest to the door," Keith says, and doesn't elaborate when Shiro raises a questioning eyebrow.  
  
"Alright," Shiro says finally, and Keith is grateful he doesn't push. Shiro lifts the duvet and gets into bed - into _Keith's bed_  - and then, short-circuiting Keith's brain, Shiro crooks a finger at him.  
  
Keith rolls his eyes for show, flicking the lights off and making his way blind towards his bed. It's different getting into bed when someone else is in it, though, and Keith solidly elbows Shiro in the stomach before lying down.  
  
"Sorry!"  
  
Shiro coughs, half a laugh escaping him. "It's alright. Should've known this was just a plot for you to injure me."  
  
"It's so I can get out of sparring," Keith says, turning and putting his back to Shiro, and Shiro chuckles.  
  
Keith realises with a jolt that he's on the very edge of the bed, and just as quickly realises that to be safe, he's gonna have to get closer to Shiro.  
  
Real close.  
  
Keith shifts back as much as he dares, to the point where he can feel Shiro's legs against his and Shiro's elbow in his hair, and pauses, not really comfortable but not wanting to disturb him.  
  
He wishes Shiro could've ignored the high ground for once and let Keith sleep on the floor, but no, they're gonna do this the hard way.  
  
"Is it weird for you if we're - touching?" Keith forces himself to ask, face hot in the dark.  
  
"Is that why you're wiggling so much?" Shiro asks, sounding amused, and Keith gasps as Shiro wraps an arm around him and pulls Keith's back flush to his chest. "Better?"  
  
Shiro doesn't hold back at _all_ : his arm is heavy, securing Keith close to him, and Keith can feel Shiro's hand spanning his stomach, his waist tiny in comparison.  
  
He thinks his voice would fail him if he tried to speak, so he nods, knowing Shiro will feel it.  
  
They're _cuddling_ , Keith thinks in a panic. He's not at all averse to this situation - in fact, asked the question Keith would say it's a dream come true - but in practice and in a far different context to the one Keith had imagined, Keith was terrified.  
  
Every movement presses him tighter against Shiro, firmer into the arm around his waist, so Keith gets himself as comfortable as he can and finally relaxes, looking at the clock and calculating the hours until sunrise.  
  
Lance would never let him live this down, Keith thinks, and the thought makes his heart race. He wonders if Shiro often shares beds with his friends - though Keith is aware it's something people do, he's painfully ignorant of the intricacies of friendship - and wonders if this is strange for Shiro, if he feels vulnerable at all being trapped closest to the wall, and maybe Keith ought to have offered him the choice -  
  
Shiro shifts, arm tightening around Keith's waist, and Keith falls still, waiting, but Shiro just sighs quietly, his breath tickling Keith's neck.  
  
Keith hadn't planned to sleep at all, but before long he finds his eyelids drooping. Shiro's still awake; his fingers are absently tracing little patterns on Keith's stomach, and Keith is glad for the thin barrier of his t-shirt stopping Shiro from feeling the goosebumps breaking out at his touch.  
  
"Goodnight," Keith murmurs.  
  
"Night, Keith," Shiro says softly, so close to Keith's ear, and it's the easiest thing in the world to relax into Shiro's embrace and drop off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Keith wakes tense and alert, keeping still until he recalls that he's safe, that it's _Shiro's_  arm slung tight around him, Shiro's warmth pressed against his back.  
  
Knowing this doesn't make him any less tense.  
  
"Good morning," comes Shiro's voice close to his ear, sounding amused, and Keith winces, having not been as subtle as he thought in his reach for the clock.  
  
"Morning," Keith replies absently, and then swears as he sees the time. "God," he says, annoyed with himself, "I was gonna stay up and make sure you slept."  
  
Maybe Keith's imagining it, but Shiro's arm tightens around him. "Actually," Shiro says, sounding a little - embarrassed? "I slept better than I have for - for a while."  
  
"That's - really good," Keith says, pleased. Shiro's voice is rough from sleep, and it makes Keith's stomach flip over.  
  
"Must be my bed," Shiro says, mock-offense in his voice. "I bet senior cadets get given the worst ones - lumpy mattresses, rock-hard pillows, the lot."  
  
"You're just jealous," Keith says. "Maybe I earned this through all my hard work and excellent work ethic."  
  
Shiro laughs properly at that, and Keith mourns the fact he can't punch Shiro in the arm from this angle.  
  
"Funny," Shiro says, and it warms Keith to hear the fond note in his voice.  
  
They're pressed very close together, Keith's narrow bed not very accommodating of Shiro's bulk, and Keith can actually feel the rise and fall of Shiro's chest as he breathes.  
  
"You wanna get up?" Keith asks. He's slept much later than he usually does, and he feels restless.  
  
Shiro sighs. "If we have to," he mutters, then laughs self-consciously. Keith sits up, looking at Shiro out of the corner of his eye, but Shiro looks up and catches his gaze.  
  
There are pillow creases on Shiro's cheek, and he smiles sleepily at Keith as he rubs his eyes. Keith's never seen Shiro like this, uncalculated and soft, lacking the competent, capable shell of the officer, the star student, the role model. It feels intimate, like Shiro has allowed Keith to see a side of him few have had the privilege of seeing, and Keith tucks the moment away to think about later.  
  
He swings his legs out of bed and stands, stretching languorously and taking a deep breath. When he turns back to Shiro, Shiro's gaze moves guiltily to meet Keith's as though caught doing something he shouldn't.  
  
Was Shiro - ? Surely not.  
  
Surely he wouldn't look at Keith like _that_.  
  
Keith swallows, choosing to let the moment pass, and goes to his drawers.  
  
"I'd offer to lend you clothes," he says without turning around, "but I really don't think they'd fit."  
  
"Oh, I don't know," Shiro says, suddenly very close to Keith's ear, and Keith shudders involuntarily, pointedly not turning his head. "Cropped clothes are very stylish, aren't they?"  
  
Keith tries and fails not to imagine Shiro in a cropped shirt, bared midriff and defined muscles that Keith can't stop thinking about running his tongue over -  
  
"Yes," Keith blurts out, forgetting entirely what he's responding to and accidentally crumpling his shirt in his fist. Shiro laughs and moves away, and Keith can finally breathe again.  
  
"I'm going to shower," Keith says after a moment, closing the drawer and nearly swallowing his tongue as he turns, eyes darting from arms to chest to abs as Shiro stretches just as languidly as Keith had, but somehow making it into a performance Keith can't look away from. Keith shuts his mouth and redirects his gaze to Shiro's face as Shiro opens his eyes.  
  
"Okay," he says amicably. "I'm gonna clear up my stuff and head back, so... I'll see you later?"  
  
Keith nods. "Sure," he says, and makes to walk past Shiro, but Shiro catches his arm.  
  
"Hey," he says, and then stops, seeming uncertain. "I - wanted to thank you for last night. It meant a lot to me."  
  
It's odd to see Shiro fumble for words. "It was nothing," Keith says, unsure of the right words himself. "As long as you're alright."  
  
"Thank you, Keith," Shiro says, heartfelt, and then pulls Keith into a hug. Keith hugs back without any hesitation, and Shiro smiles at him when they part.

They let their eyes linger, just for a moment, and Shiro rocks on his heels as if he's making his mind up about something.

Whatever it was, though, Shiro clearly decides against it, and he steps back, out of Keith's space.

Keith bites his lip. "So - see you later."

"Yeah," Shiro says, sounding disappointed. Keith wonders if he was going to say something important. "See you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave a comment if you enjoyed!


	11. Chapter 11

All the breath leaves Shiro's lungs as he falls on his back, and Keith follows seconds later, quick hands pinning Shiro's wrists to the floor.   
  
"Yield," Keith says, grinning wildly down at Shiro, hair a messy halo tickling Shiro's face as he leans in close, endlessly pleased with himself. Months and months of sparring and training and practising and he finally, finally managed to pin Shiro down. It's a momentous moment. Keith can't wait to rub it in Shiro's face.   
  
"I yield," Shiro manages, breathless, and Keith bites his lip. Shiro's cheeks are flushed, and Keith can't help his gaze flickering down to Shiro's lips.   
  
And then Shiro surges up and kisses him, closing the agonising distance between them. Keith goes still, mouth falling lax under Shiro's for a second but then he's kissing Shiro back, tilting his head for a better angle, and Keith feels lost.   
  
His mind is completely blank, running over the one simple fact that he's _kissing Takashi Shirogane_ , but then Shiro yanks himself away, breathing heavily. Their lips disconnect with a quiet _pop_ , and Keith blinks down at him.   
  
"Keith," Shiro breathes, "we shouldn't - "  
  
Heart beating out of his chest, Keith kisses Shiro again, softer, moving one hand to Shiro's cheek, hoping to dispel any worries or regrets with his adamance that this is what he wants, but Shiro breaks away again, pain in his eyes.   
  
He sits up, forcing Keith to let go of his wrists and stumble slightly at the change in position, grabbing Shiro's shoulders until he can awkwardly climb off Shiro's lap. Shiro stands up hurriedly, and Keith follows, looking at Shiro in confusion.   
  
"Shiro - "  
  
"No," Shiro says quickly, holding up a hand as Keith steps forward. "I can't - I shouldn't have done that - "  
  
"Why?" Keith presses, eyebrows drawn together. Shiro glances at the door, and when Keith follows his gaze he feels a little embarrassed: anyone could have come in and seen them.   
  
"We can't."  
  
" _Why_?" Keith says again, harder, and Shiro swallows.   
  
"I have a responsibility to you, I shouldn't - I'm sorry, Keith - "  
  
"A responsibility?" When Shiro glances up again, eyes full of regret, Keith tenses, fists clenched at his sides.   
  
He should have known.   
  
Shiro opens his mouth to reply, and Keith cuts him off, a false, mocking smile on his lips. "Is that all I am to you? A responsibility?" Keith bites out the word, voice rough and trembling with anger. "The problem child? Your little _pet project_?" Keith sneers the words, suddenly and bitterly remembering Lance's comment from when they'd first met, and it stings now where it didn't before.   
  
"It's not appropriate," Shiro manages weakly, seeming to find his voice, and it just makes Keith angrier - _inappropriate_ , as though Shiro thinks he's been babysitting Keith all this time.   
  
"I'm not a child," Keith snaps.   
  
"I know that," Shiro says lamely.   
  
"Do you?" Keith meets Shiro's gaze, expression fierce. "I don't need babying, I - I _want_  you."  
  
At that, Shiro flushes bright red, taking another step away from Keith and folding his hands behind his back.   
  
" _You_  kissed me," Keith continues, and Shiro bites his lip.   
  
"I'm sorry - I shouldn't have done that."  
  
"You're sorry," Keith mutters in disbelief. He's angry right now, but when that fades all that will be left is how Shiro's cut him deep, tossing away Keith's pathetic little feelings like they're nothing, all these months of talking and laughing and sparring and Keith loves him _so much_  -  
  
Shiro doesn't reply, shifting on the spot, and when he won't even meet Keith's eyes Keith draws himself up again, feeling like he's boiling over.   
  
"Inappropriate," Keith repeats, and Shiro winces. "I guess I'll quit making it so difficult for you, then." Shiro looks wounded at that, and Keith hates it because Shiro has no right to be sad when he just removed Keith's heart with careful fingers and threw it to the floor.  
  
"Keith, please - "  
  
"Don't touch me," Keith snaps, and Shiro pulls his hand back as if burnt as Keith strides past him, head held high, eyes hard and avoiding Shiro's gaze.   
  
"Keith," Shiro tries one more time, but the only reply is the electronic swish of the doors closing behind him. 

 

* * *

 

Shiro doesn't seek him out, but Keith still avoids him, ensuring he turns around if he sees Shiro in the corridor and avoiding the cafe at all costs. He misses hanging out with Lance and Hunk, but Keith doesn't want to risk seeing Shiro, and doesn't want to make things awkward for the other two. Best if he stays away.

  
Even if he is lonely.  
  
Keith manages a whole day without seeing Shiro once. It makes him overconfident, and so when he walks into the gym and makes immediate, jarring eye contact with Shiro, it's too late to turn around.  
  
They stare at each other and Keith looks away first, squaring his shoulders and concentrating on walking towards the showers, eyes firmly on the floor. Shiro was on the other side of the gym, so Keith knows Shiro must have jogged over when he starts speaking.  
  
"Keith," is all he says, and Keith winces at the sound of his name in Shiro's mouth because, _God_ , he misses him already.   
  
"Not today, Shiro," Keith says politely, though his hands curl into fists.  
  
"Keith, will you - can we just talk?" Shiro touches Keith's elbow, and Keith jerks away, finally turning to face him.  
  
"I don't want to talk," he snaps, and it sounds childish the instant he says it but he can't bring himself to care. "I'm really, just - I can't." It makes him more frustrated to stumble over his words**, and Keith feels himself flush in anger and embarrassment. "Just don't," he adds coldly, looking away from Shiro's downcast face and starting to walk.  
  
Shiro doesn't try again, and guilt weighs like a stone in Keith's stomach.

 

* * *

 

Keith realises too late that Lance is walking straight towards him, and tries to turn around - he's not in the mood to deal with Lance today. Not with what's going on. Not with the look on Lance's face.   
  
He wonders for a second if Shiro's said anything to their friends, and feels his cheeks grow hot with embarrassment at the pathetic thought, as if he's some schoolboy with a crush.   
  
It's over when Lance calls, "Hey, Keith!" and Keith sighs and stops, waiting for Lance to catch up.   
  
"Hey," Lance says, stopping in front of Keith. "What's up?"  
  
"What do you want?"  
  
Keith waits for Lance's mocking tone, and looks up at him when it doesn't come. Lance has a sympathetic look on his face. Keith wants it gone.   
  
"Just - Keith, talk to Shiro, would you?" Keith opens his mouth to tell Lance to mind his own damn business, but Lance interrupts him, "Shiro hasn't _said_  anything, but we know he's miserable, and I know you guys haven't seen each other for like a week - "  
  
Two days. It's been two days.   
  
Though it does feel like a week.   
  
"Mind your own business," Keith says frostily, starting to walk again.   
  
"Come on, Keith," Lance says, easily catching up to him. "Sometimes you just gotta suck it up. Communication is key."  
  
"I'm not taking advice from _you_."  
  
"No one likes sleeping on the couch," Lance says, and Keith splutters indignantly.   
  
"I'm not - we're not - "  
  
"I know the feeling," Lance says cheerfully, patting Keith's shoulder, and Keith shrugs him off fiercely, finally stopping and turning to face him.   
  
"Yeah, I bet," he says, intending to be insulting, but Lance grins lazily.   
  
"Listen," Lance says more seriously. "I've never seen Shiro like this. He's like a kicked puppy."  
  
"That isn't my problem," Keith says, voice hard, even if the thought makes him feel guilty.  
  
Lance gives the empty corridor a furtive glance. "So it's Shiro's fault?"  
  
Keith glares at him.   
  
"Hey, you know what you could do? Go over and shout at him. That's communication."  
  
"He's not going to listen to me," Keith says crossly: the only allowance he's giving Lance.   
  
"Cathartic, though."  
  
Keith folds his arms across his chest. "I don't want to talk to him," he tells Lance, whose expression actually softens. "So stop meddling. If he sent you, tell him to - " Keith struggles between not wanting to interact with Shiro but needing to express his displeasure. "Just leave me alone."  
  
"He didn't send me," Lance assures him. "This is out of the goodness of my heart."  
  
"Well, stop," Keith snaps, turning and striding forward, and this time Lance doesn't follow him. 

 

* * *

 

The library is quiet, the only murmuring noise coming from small pockets of students clustered in the best seats, and Keith curls his legs under him in the chair, bringing the book closer to his face. The library may be peaceful, but the thoughts buzzing around his head are distracting: agonisingly loud and none of them worth contemplating.   
  
He starts the paragraph again.   
  
Keith feels restless, frustrated, wanting to _do_  something, but he doesn't really want to be around anyone and he ought to read this book before his class on Monday.   
  
He doesn't look up when the door opens, bitterly revelling in being alone, but his attention is caught when someone sits down opposite him.   
  
Keith looks up to see who would dare invade his space - _his_ , when the library is so empty - and grits his teeth upon seeing Hunk.   
  
"Hey, buddy," Hunk says in a voice so falsely cheerful both he and Keith wince. "Okay, that was the worst - just, you doing okay, Keith?"  
  
The worst thing about Hunk is that he sounds like he actually cares; Keith knows he could trust Hunk with everything he's feeling, knows Hunk will listen to him - but Keith also wants to bury all his anger and hurt deep down where no one can ever get at it.   
  
"Fine," Keith says automatically, realising a second too late that this is the worst answer he could possibly give.   
  
"Oh yeah, totally believable," Hunk says, and Keith scowls at him. "I know I'm at my best when I'm fighting with Lance, it just makes me feel so warm inside - "  
  
"Stop," Keith says, finding himself actually laughing.   
  
They sit in silence for a moment. Keith is uncomfortably aware of the sympathy softening Hunk's expression.   
  
He exhales loudly, blowing a strand of hair out of his face. "What did Shiro tell you?"  
  
"That he kissed you." Hunk looks guilty. Keith narrows his eyes.   
  
"And?"  
  
"And...everything was fine until he managed to screw it up by insulting you after."  
  
"Did he say he screwed up?" Keith asks, interested.   
  
"No," Hunk says quickly. He almost rolls his eyes but catches himself, and Keith smirks. "Listen, I'm not taking sides - "  
  
"Of course not."  
  
" - not that I should take sides, because I'm not at all involved - "  
  
"Mhm."  
  
" - but I think you need to talk to him."  
  
"I don't want to," Keith says childishly.   
  
"You should see him," Hunk says. "He's all down in the dumps. Lance put salt in his coffee to get a rise out of him and Shiro didn't even react. He drank it, Keith. He drank the salt coffee."  
  
Keith wrinkles his nose sympathetically and fights his amusement. He hates how much easier it is to talk to Hunk; Keith feels all his emotions and unsaid words churn in the back of his throat, so close to breaking down and telling Hunk everything.   
  
"I know you're secretly rolling on the floor laughing," Hunk says knowingly, and Keith manages an amused huff of air.   
  
He avoids Hunk's pitying gaze, and words bubble up inside him the longer they're sat in silence.   
  
"Just - there's nothing to say," Keith says eventually, staring hard at the floor.   
  
"There's always something to say," Hunk says vaguely, but it encourages Keith.   
  
"He won't listen to me," Keith complains, more frustration seeping into his voice than he'd like. "He's just gonna tell me the same thing, and then he'll expect us to go back to the way it was before, so he can treat me even more like a child."  
  
When Keith looks at Hunk, Hunk nods slowly. "You didn't hear it from me," Hunk says, looking over his shoulder as though Lance is lurking in the shadows - and Keith wouldn't be surprised if he was, "but Shiro really likes you, Keith. He doesn't wanna mess this up, and he doesn't know what to do now."  
  
Keith purses his lips.   
  
"You're both scared," Hunk tells him, and Keith resents his tone but appreciates the truth of his words. "And you both totally made a mess of the situation."  
  
"Thanks, Hunk," Keith says dryly.   
  
"But that's why you have to _talk_ ," Hunk says, and his wheedling tone is almost enough to convince Keith. "You gotta understand each other. _Communicate_. Communication is key."  
  
It was the same thing Lance had told him.   
  
"I don't know what to say," Keith admits quietly, feeling like a child, but Hunk nods encouragingly at him when he looks up.   
  
"Neither does Shiro," Hunk promises. "But you'll work it out. You have no idea how many times I've wanted to strangle Lance and then I find out he was being an asshole to cover up some other problem. It happens."  
  
Keith can't imagine Lance being an asshole for any other reason than for fun, but he swallows and nods.   
  
"You should've come to talk to me first," he says. "Lance just pissed me off."  
  
"Lance came to talk to you?" Hunk's expression is that of forced calm, and Keith swallows nervously even though it isn't even directed at him.   
  
"Bumped into him a couple days ago," Keith says slowly, and Hunk's calm expression becomes a calm smile. "Why?"  
  
"Nothing," Hunk says sweetly. "Just that I _told_  him not to say anything."  
  
Defending Lance isn't in Keith's best interests, but nevertheless he volunteers, "Uh, actually Lance told me the same thing. Communication is key, right?"  
  
"Really?" Hunk sounds overjoyed. "He _does_  listen to me!"  
  
Keith groans. "You know, I expect this gross stuff from Lance, but not you, Hunk. Come on."  
  
Hunk grins, and Keith closes the book he'd been pretending to pay attention to.   
  
"Don't say anything," he says anxiously. Hunk looks conflicted, but he nods.   
  
"Sure, Keith. But talk to him, okay?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *eyes emoji*
> 
> please leave a comment if you enjoyed!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we made it, folks. chapter twelve. i had an alarm on my phone to remind me to update ftd at 21:30 on mondays, and deleting it was a sad ordeal
> 
> (me: vastly overestimating the garrison's technological capabilities. this is more reminiscent of the castle but u know what i like it this way)

Friday night was when Shiro came over and they talked for hours about class and themselves and anything at all and, of late, Keith had occasionally persuaded Shiro to sit and watch a movie with him.   
  
Friday night finds Keith on the training deck, feeling like he's burning up inside, striking and kicking and stabbing at the robots that swarm around him. He'd never tried the most advanced levels, but anger is a good motivator, and Keith sees red everywhere he looks.   
  
_Sparring is a good outlet_ , Keith thinks, the voice in his mind sickly sweet and mocking.   
  
He closes his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath, and opens them just as the first robot launches itself towards him. Keith strikes out fiercely to its solar plexus and watches it disappear with some consternation. Too easy.   
  
"Increase level by two."  
  
He twirls to avoid a robot's lunging sword and almost spirals right into another one had it not been for his quick reflexes; Keith catches himself and strikes without looking over his shoulder, and listens to the satisfying clanking of metal as the robot falls to the floor.   
  
Two more.   
  
They're more difficult, circling him and blocking him in, forcing Keith to turn very carefully to keep them in his sights. If he had two swords - but he doesn't, and so Keith pivots and makes a split-second decision the robots won't predict in time.   
  
He swipes the legs of one robot out from under it, turning in time to duck the other one's sword and bringing his own up in defense, and then it's close combat, ducking back and striking forward until one of them breaks.   
  
The robot catches his wrist and Keith grunts in pain - it's only a static burn, to inform students they've been hit while still training without risk of real injury - and leaps back, forced to parry attacks and unable to see an opening for one of his own.   
  
He leaps backwards, raises his sword above his head - the robot lunges in for a stab to the stomach, just as Keith anticipated, but Keith's too quick; his sword comes down in a diagonal slice, piercing the robot's armour and finishing the sequence with a satisfying _crunch_  of metal.   
  
Keith realises his legs are about to give out, so he stumbles to a bench, trembling and leaning his head back against the wall. Anger seeps out of him in exhausted waves, and without it Keith just feels small and sad, missing Shiro and wishing more than anything that that day had ended differently, because they could be - Keith blushes at his own pathetic thoughts - they could be together right now, happy instead of apart.   
  
He knows he should speak to Shiro. Shiro's tried - Lance and Hunk have tried, too - it's just Keith who's stiff-backed and refusing to budge, and the realisation comes to Keith that perhaps he is being a little immature, a little irrational in shutting everyone out and stewing in his own hurt.   
  
Keith feels worse as he showers, rubbing a towel absent-mindedly through his hair and resolving to find Shiro, tonight, before this situation drags on and hurts them both further.   
  
Having made the decision, Keith hurries back to his room, determined to fix his mistake, but as soon as he turns the corner he freezes.   
  
Shiro turns from where he'd been about to knock at Keith's door, and they stare at each other across the length of the corridor.   
  
Keith keeps walking after a moment's pause, fumbling his key from his pocket with shaking fingers, and he gives Shiro an uncertain smile as he approaches.   
  
"Hi," Keith says.   
  
"Hey, Keith," Shiro says, and his voice is quiet and careful, as though he thinks Keith will push him away again.   
  
The thought floods Keith with guilt, and he blurts out, "Do you - want to come in?"  
  
Keith sits in his desk chair, and Shiro perches on the edge of the desk. He can feel Shiro's gaze on him. Silence hangs between them like a cloak, thick and muffling Shiro's words when he speaks.   
  
"What?"   
  
"I said," Shiro says hesitantly, "are you okay?"  
  
"Oh," Keith says, and blinks. The answer he'd given Hunk - _fine_  - sits on the tip of his tongue, but he says quietly, "I - no. Not really."  
  
"Me neither," Shiro says. He sounds just as nervous, and maybe Hunk was right.   
  
Keith swallows nervously. "I missed you."  
  
"I missed you too," Shiro echoes again, and Keith bites back his frustration, unable to understand how Shiro could possibly be more useless than him at things like this.   
  
"Do you regret kissing me?" he blurts out.  
  
He almost regrets it, but Shiro suddenly looks so nervous that Keith forgets all about his awkward question and waits with bated breath for the answer.   
  
"No," Shiro says - not slowly, not quickly; his speech is measured, and Keith can see the focus on his face as he thinks. "I - shouldn't have reacted like that." Keith waits. "I wish I'd done it differently."  
  
Shiro finally looks up at Keith, and his open expression makes Keith's breath catch.   
  
"How would you do it differently?" Keith asks cautiously.   
  
"You're not a child," Shiro says, immediate. "I acted like it was inappropriate, when I was just - scared. I was scared of what it might mean, and I took the easy way out and hurt you. I'm sorry."  
  
Keith chews his bottom lip. "I'm sorry too," he says hesitantly. "I should've talked to you the other day. That was immature."  
  
Shiro gives Keith a tentative smile, and Keith returns it, fingers twisting in his lap. "Guess we were both immature," Shiro says with a hint of humour, and Keith smiles wider, glancing away.   
  
"Yeah," he says, and stands up. Shiro pushes himself off the desk and stands close to him, a question in his eyes. "So," Keith says, heart in his throat, "if you could do it again, you'd..."  
  
"I'd do it very differently," Shiro says, catching Keith's drift and looking down at him with a smile. Keith instigated the situation, but he's still startled when Shiro's hand cups his face, thumbing over his cheekbone. "Keith," Shiro says, quiet, serious, "can I kiss you?"  
  
Keith nods helplessly, and then Shiro is kissing him. It's soft and chaste, and Keith thinks that Shiro is as nervous as he is, tentatively putting a hand on Shiro's waist.   
  
Their mouths separate for a moment, and then Keith pushes forward and kisses _harder_ , swipes his tongue over Shiro's bottom lip until Shiro gasps and opens for him, hands moving to Keith's hips and holding tightly, letting Keith lead the kiss only a second longer before pushing back, licking into Keith's mouth. They're panting, the room filled with little breathless sounds and fuck, Keith's never wanted someone so badly in his _life_.   
  
He gasps when they break apart, and Shiro's smiling, their mouths brushing but never quite catching as Keith tries to get his breath back.   
  
"Do you want to," Shiro starts, and Keith's nodding before he can even finish, because he wants anything Shiro will give him.   
  
"Yes," Keith says breathlessly.   
  
And then Shiro's hands are at the hem of his shirt and tugging, and Keith shivers and raises his arms to make it easier.   
  
He's never gotten this far.   
  
He'd almost been with a girl, once, drunk at a party - but before they'd even gotten out of their clothes Keith had begged off, hardly able to think straight and, though he'd never admit it, a little afraid; too afraid to consider anything when his mind wasn't his own.   
  
But now Shiro's pulling Keith's shirt over his head and kissing his neck, and Keith thinks wildly that Shiro must be able to hear his heart racing as he walks Keith backwards and presses him down into the mattress, just like Keith has dreamed of so many times.   
  
He feels on-display, sprawled under Shiro like this, and the way Shiro's eyes rove greedily over him sends heat coursing through his body.   
  
Shiro moves back and pulls his own shirt off and Keith reaches up because he can finally _touch_ , running his hands down Shiro's chest and tentatively tracing down the dark line of hair disappearing into Shiro's boxers.   
  
The touch makes Shiro moan, and he grabs Keith's hand and pins it back against the bed, slotting himself between Keith's legs and rolling his hips once, twice, until Keith's gasping, eyes squeezed shut and so hard he thinks he might die from it.  
  
"Open your eyes," Shiro says, and Keith obeys, looking up at Shiro's gaze burning into his. "Fuck, look at you," Shiro breathes, and Keith feels himself blushing, feeling exposed but not close enough, all at once.   
  
Shiro kisses him again, hard, and Keith feels hot all over because _fuck_  he's a good kisser, lips and teeth and tongue driving Keith to distraction until Shiro palms him through his jeans and Keith tears himself away to cry out.   
  
"Okay?" Shiro asks breathlessly, and Keith can do nothing but nod, fingers curling into Shiro's shoulder.   
  
"I wanted you so badly," he manages, face flushing from the simple admission.   
  
"You have no idea," Shiro says, and as he speaks he tugs at Keith's waistband, sliding his jeans and boxers off in one go and staring helplessly at the new skin revealed, "the thoughts I've had about you, Keith, God - "  
  
"Tell me," Keith says, self-conscious wanting to not be the only person so naked, but before the thought's even fully formed Shiro's shifting back and discarding his remaining clothes too. When he settles back on top of Keith it's so much hotter, skin to skin and intimate in the way Shiro moves as close to Keith as he possibly can, their noses brushing as Shiro smooths Keith's hair back from his face.  
  
"Every time we spar," he says, and Keith bites his lip as Shiro groans. "Pinning you down, having you all spread out under me - I'd always remember it later and - "  
  
Keith desperately wants to know how that sentence was going to end, if Shiro had ever locked himself in the bathroom and brought himself off like Keith had so many times after their sessions, but he's startled into a shocked moan as Shiro reaches down and wraps long fingers around Keith's cock.   
  
" _Ah_  - I always thought about that, about you too," Keith manages, squirming and moaning as Shiro starts moving, rubbing his thumb over the head of Keith's cock.   
  
"Yeah?" Shiro asks breathlessly, and Keith nods, gripping Shiro's arms like a lifeline. He isn't going to last long, not like this, not with Shiro, and he breathes in sharply when Shiro suddenly lets go of him.   
  
But it's only a second before the touch returns, and Keith watches Shiro take both their cocks in one big hand, rubbing them together and Keith's back arches off the mattress, gasping, hearing Shiro curse under his breath and brace his other hand beside Keith's head, pinning him, _caging_  him.   
  
"Takashi," slips unbidden from Keith and the way Shiro moans is the hottest thing he's ever heard, so Keith says it again, " _Takashi_ ," when Shiro hides his face in Keith's neck, kissing a line up Keith's jaw to the sensitive spot under his ear.   
  
"I thought about you saying my name like that," Shiro whispers, close to Keith's ear, and Keith shudders. "Moaning my name like that."  
  
Keith does moan then, can't stop thinking about Shiro thinking about _him_ , wondering what Shiro imagined, and Shiro continues, "Your face, the noises you'd make," and bites down, worrying the skin with his teeth and sure to leave a mark, shocking a whimper from Keith that makes Shiro _smirk_.   
  
"I'm close," Keith gasps, too far gone to be embarrassed as how _easy_  he is, and when he looks down, the sight of Shiro's hand around his cock is almost enough to push him over the edge. He stares at Shiro instead, breath stuttering in his chest because Shiro is _huge_ , and hard for _Keith_ , and Keith suddenly wonders what it'd feel like in his hand, in his mouth, _inside him_  -  
  
Keith grabs Shiro's hair and tugs him down for a hard, biting kiss, relishing Shiro's broken moan when Keith bites his lip and forcing himself to look up and see the fire in Shiro's eyes, irises entirely swallowed up by his pupils.   
  
"Baby," Shiro says roughly, and Keith squirms, burning hotter at _baby_  from Shiro's lips, "God, you're so good - "  
  
Keith tries to concentrate, to hold on a little longer, but his movements falter as Shiro works them faster, kisses Keith harder and whispers, "Come for me, sweetheart," and Keith cries out and comes, nails scratching down Shiro's back and distantly hearing Shiro's moan.   
  
Shiro takes Keith's hand when it falls to the sheets, interweaving their fingers and pinning them beside Keith's head. It's only a moment before Keith's coming back to himself, blinking up at Shiro's awed gaze and getting a hand between them.   
  
" _Keith_ ," Shiro gasps, and Keith smirks and takes his time; learns the angle and the rhythm, works Shiro's cock until Shiro's panting, fingers tightening in the sheets beside Keith's head.   
  
"Keith," Shiro says again, desperate, and Keith kisses him as he speeds up his movements and it's not long before Shiro's spilling between them with a moan, gasping against Keith's neck. Keith puts his hands into Shiro's hair, smoothing against the shorn edges of his undercut and running his fingers through Shiro's forelock.   
  
Shiro leans heavily on top on him but Keith likes it - feeling safe and surrounded and overwhelmed, because shit, they really just - and what if -  
  
"Stop thinking," Shiro says, muffled.   
  
"Says you," Keith retorts automatically, and then flushes, embarrassed, because what if that kind of joking isn't appropriate anymore? How are they supposed to act now?  
  
"I said, stop thinking," Shiro says, propping himself up on his elbows and kissing Keith unexpectedly on the nose.   
  
"You're so lame," Keith says, covering his face to hide his burning cheeks and helpless smile.   
  
"You love it," Shiro says, and he's smiling when Keith looks at him.   
  
He moves off Keith eventually, and Keith misses the pressure and the warmth, but it's nice like this, too, lying on their backs and holding hands.   
  
"We need to clean up," Keith says decisively after a moment, and Shiro groans, but acquiesces only when Keith stands up without him.   
  
They don't share a shower - Keith ducks into the next stall with an embarrassed smile - but they do end up back in Keith's room, crawling into the too-small bed. Keith doesn't have any qualms this time about being close to Shiro, and Shiro gathers Keith to him.   
  
"Your hair's gone all curly," he murmurs fondly, kissing the top of Keith's head.   
  
"I've had _two_  showers today now," Keith says, "so that's your fault."  
  
"It's cute." Keith blushes, and Shiro pokes his cheek. "That's cute, too."  
  
Keith didn't know Shiro could be so _sappy_ , and didn't know how much he'd love it, but he stops smiling as a thought comes to him.   
  
"I didn't even get to brag about finally beating you!" he exclaims, and Shiro starts laughing. "Do you _know_  how long I've been waiting - "  
  
"Of course," Shiro says, still smiling. "You know, I _was_ waiting for us to talk about the kiss, but also so I could tell you I'm proud of you."  
  
This is neither the time nor the place, and Keith turns his face away, chest filling with a reluctant, embarrassed pride. Shiro taps Keith's arm.   
  
"We've come a long way," he says. 

 

* * *

 

Keith and Shiro walk into the canteen together the next day, and Lance's eyes immediately narrow.   
  
When they sit down, Lance says, "Takashi Shirogane, were you out past curfew last night?"  
  
Keith can't help laughing, and Shiro's expression is guilty when he sneaks a glance at him.   
  
"That's against regulation." Shiro finds Keith's hand under the table, and Keith smiles to himself. It's cliché, he thinks, but it's really nice that he can do this now.   
  
"Yeah, and you're such a good _mentor_ , aren't you, Shiro?" Lance asks. Hunk's grinning. Keith thinks there's something he's missing. Shiro obviously thinks the same, because he narrows his eyes at the other two, who are trying not to laugh.   
  
"Hunk?" Shiro asks in desperation.   
  
"You know, Lance," Hunk muses, "I'm pretty sure hickeys are also against regulation, wouldn't you agree?"  
  
"Fuck," spills from Keith's mouth before he can stop himself, and his gaze snaps to Shiro, who's red in the face and sporting numerous marks on his neck - and yeah, that's all Keith's fault.   
  
Luckily, the marks Shiro had left on him are a little lower down.   
  
"I knew it!" Lance crows, wide-eyed. "I _told_  you!"  
  
"Hey, I didn't _argue_  - "  
  
Shiro squeezes Keith's hand, and Keith looks at him with a brilliant smile. "Oops."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so there we go!! my very first chaptered and long fic ever, my baby, all finished. i am incapable of not ending fics cheesily
> 
> thanks so so much to everyone who left kudos, commented, subscribed, bookmarked - your support means the world to me and keeps me writing, it's been so lovely to interact with you guys
> 
> thanks to those who've read from the start, who picked it up halfway through, and to those reading in the future!! and a huge thanks to the gal who inspired this entire fic. you know who u are and i love you
> 
> i've got lots of stuff in the works, and i'm participating in sheith month, so subscribe to my profile if you'd like to see my future work!
> 
> thank you so much again, and you can hmu on on twitter at twitter.com/starboysheith and tumblr at starboykeith.tumblr.com !!


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